Chronicles
of the
Children
of Destiny
‘Anthology’
by
Daniel
Thomas Andrew Daly
http://noahidebooks.angelfire.com
©
Stories
1.
Gabriel
and Aquariel
2.
Witches
and Warlocks
3.
The
Gabriel Agenda
4.
Veldona
and Shemrael
5.
Linda
on Fire
6.
Sharakondra
7.
Michael
8.
Krystabel
and the Clock of Eternity
9.
Bantriel
the Seraphim
10. Matrel and the Diviner of Untold
Miseries
11. Callodyn and Kayella
12. The Cherubim Navindra
13. Phanuel and Brindabel
14. The Days of Summer Past
15. Saruviel of
Eternity
16. Dragon
17. The 700,000
18. Just a Few More
19. Callodyn’s Pride
20. Fighting for
Glory
21. Call to Honour
“Gabriel and Aquariel”
Chapter One
Four weeks after the wedding of
eternity, Gabriel was sitting by the Terravon.
Nearby was Aquariel, throwing bread at the swans who
were swimming around. She looked over at
him, smiled and waved, and turned back to the swans. They were close at the moment – very
close. The wedding between Michael and
Elenniel had touched them, changing them.
They were deeper now – deeper in their friendship – closer as brother
and sister. And he found something,
something in the deep of night, which spoke to his heart. Something of love and
commitment, one that would endure, not just temporarily, but eternally. One that, through the hard times, and through
the good times, would always march on, never forgetting
the beauty of love and the beauty of the God which had birthed it. Aquariel had spoken in similar ways, and they had laughed together at the irony of thinking
such similar thoughts.
Daniel was close by, sitting with
Ariel. At the moment they were an item,
but nobody expected it to last forever, not even Daniel from what he had said
personally to Gabriel. But for the
moment he would enjoy his twin.
Aquariel finished feeding the swans and
came and sat next to him on the bench.
She put her hand in his and leaned on his shoulder. ‘You’re sweet,’ she whispered to him.
‘I know,’ he responded with a subtle
grin, whereupon Aquariel punched him lightly on the shoulder and said ‘You vain thing,’ and Gabriel laughed.
It was a pleasant afternoon for the
small group of 6 angels, very pleasant indeed.
Cosadriel and Oshanel came and sat down next to Gabriel and Aquariel,
Cosadriel a little wet from the swim he had just taken.
‘He was trying to be a hero,’ said
Oshanel. He found this tree trunk
crossing over much of the Terravon down stream and tried to jump from the end
of it to the other side. He fell in,
naturally.’
‘Accidents happen,’ said Gabriel.
‘Hey it’s only water,’ responded
Cosadriel. ‘Besides, I nearly made the
distance, and it was a fair few cubits.’
‘Still training for that long jump, are
you?’ asked Aquariel.
‘Glory for Iceland,’ responded
Cosadriel. ‘Besides, I know that bloody
Cherubim has his limits. I’ll beat him eventually.’
‘Daranok is naturally talented,’ said
Gabriel. ‘He is an athlete by
nature. Perhaps no matter how hard you
work he will always come back at you and edge you out.’
‘Maybe,’ said Cosadriel, but had not really
conceded that.
‘I always thought Azrael was your
biggest worry,’ said Aquariel.
‘Oh, believe me he still is,’ responded
Oshanel. ‘But Saddy is competitive and
tries to beat everyone if he can. It is
just his ego, sis. Just
his ego.’
‘It is not my bloody ego, ok. I am just competitive by nature. It is how he made me, ok.’
‘Probably,’ responded Gabriel. ‘But ego can be a big motivator in many
ways. We often try to live up to
outrageous claims we have made, no matter how foolish they might later be.’
‘Very wise,’ said Oshanel. ‘I think Saddy does perhaps suffer from
that.’
‘Perhaps,’ responded Cosadriel.
‘Well, are we finished here,’ Oshanel
asked Gabriel.
‘I guess,’ he responded. ‘I’ll let Daniel and Ariel know.’
The six of them, finished for the
afternoon, made there way into the large car and they started off for
Terraphon. Reflecting upon the afternoon
Gabriel sighed to himself. It was a
pleasant enough day in Eternity, a happy little
diversion from everyday life. But the
affairs of Terraphon beckoned tomorrow and council was coming up very shortly,
a time of great hectic responsibility.
‘On with another day,’ he thought to himself.
Chapter Two
Aquariel looked at the picture of
Michael and Gabriel. It was an old picture
now, thousands of years in fact. He
noticed how they had not really changed in appearance but Gabriel seemed, in
some ways, less worried in this picture.
Perhaps it was a time of less responsibility, lesser worries, lesser concerns. A happier time of youth.
Suddenly she wanted to be with him, to comfort him. To let him know everything was alright, that
all was good. That all
was at peace. She ran to his
office, opened the door, and saw him sitting at his desk, a frown on his
face. Coming around he looked up and she
put her arms around his shoulder, comforting him.
‘Is all well Gabriel,’ she asked.
He sighed, put down his pen, and
responded, ‘Oh, you know. Work. Frustrating as ever, and often a pain in the neck. But that is life, isn’t it. The responsibilities that
God has given us to do.’
‘But we don’t need to work all the time,
brother. You have many delegates you can
pass your responsibilities on to if you wish.
Why don’t we go away for a while, just you and me. Somewhere up north, somewhere we can
relax. Escape from things. Enjoy life.’
He looked at her, seriously considering
her offer, when a little voice in his mind whispered to him, ‘It will be
ok. Go on, spoil yourself.’
‘You’re on Aqua. I’ll just finish up with this and we can go
pack.’
She took his pen from his hand, saying,
‘Enough is enough Gabriel. We go
now. You have had enough, I can
tell. Time for a
break.’
‘If you insist.’
Gabriel looked at his desk as Aquariel
pulled him along, a little worried, but then realized he had competent
help. They were not stupid, after all,
and could handle things for now. Time
for a break – time for a holiday – time to let go of things for a while and
simply be himself. Simply be Gabriel the Seraphim.
* *
* * *
The cabin was all a log cabin really
should be, Gabriel thought to himself, just grateful there was in fact running
water and toilet facilities. After
having looked it over, he had sat on the bed and watched as Aquariel swept the
floor, giving it that feminine touch. After they had unpacked Aquariel asked him to
go outside and chop some wood. Picking
up the axe he realized to himself that it had been a hell of a long time since
he had in fact chopped any wood and was a little worried he might hurt
himself. But after he had split three or
four of the logs, he was starting to get the hang of it. Aquariel came outside and watched him for a
while, before making her way out into the forest, yelling she was going to
collect mushrooms and whatever else she could find. He chopped wood for about an hour, building
up perhaps more than they would need, but realizing they were there for a month
and might need a lot. As he walked to
the cabin he noticed out the back some other chopped wood and coming around to
look at it properly he noticed there were literally tonnes of it – over a years
supply easily. He smiled to himself,
thought on the irony, but just put the wood on the pile anyway. Aquariel suddenly appeared, came over to him
and also looked at the wood. ‘You
haven’t done that much, have you?’ she asked incredulously.
Gabriel thought quickly, ‘Oh. Oh, uh, yeh.
Bloody hell it was hard work,’ he responded, wiping his brow.
She eyed him suspiciously, but didn’t
comment any further.
They ate the mushrooms with wine and the
bacon which was in the esky of food they had brought with them. ‘I will go into town tomorrow and do a proper food shop,’ said Aquariel. ‘Perhaps you could finally start that new
novel you have been putting off for the last 10,000 years.’
Gabriel considered that and nodded. There was a computer in the flat and it was
as good as time as ever to write a book. He had a few ideas for the original title,
‘The Final Encounter,’ but hadn’t completely finished the plot in his
mind. But he could work on it now and
see what came forth.’
They slept well that night, the worries
of Terraphon disappearing in the Alpine winter air, and Gabriel was at
peace. A gentle happy
peace.
Chapter Three
‘Interesting.’ She put the manuscript onto her
knees, and smiled at him. But
interesting was all she said.
‘Well do you like it? It took me all day that chapter practically.’
‘Yes, it is good. You write well, naturally really. I am just concerned that it doesn’t seem much
of a plot. It starts slowly and doesn’t really
allude to anything major coming. I mean,
what is it all about?’
‘Oh, there is a plot alright. And starting slow is how this book is meant
to be. But is the writing any good? The language I mean?’
‘About the same as most fiction books I
have read. There aren’t any grammatical
problems and the dialogue is realistic.
I mean you could probably publish the finished book if it was all like
this and get a decent readership, but you will need some interesting ideas.’
‘Then don’t worry about it. The end of chapter two should give you the
hint.’
* *
* * *
The following day, having just finished
the second chapter, Aquariel had a slightly different look on her face than
yesterdays, but not yet any great sign of enjoyment. ‘What is that supposed to mean, at the end of
the chapter. I don’t understand
that. You don’t think that.’
‘No, I don’t, not at all. But the character does, ok. You’ll see.’
‘Ok.
But, yeh, it was more of the same, but looks interesting now. I’ll read the next chapter.’
* *
* * *
Aquariel was starting to think her
brother might just have a book which would catch people’s attention. Really catch their attention. It was the third chapter, now, and suddenly
the book had really come alive with a plot twist she really had not seen
coming. And now she was hooked. She wouldn’t call him brilliant, not
yet. But now understanding the first two
chapters, she started to see why it had gone slow. He was a smart thinker, her brother. A very smart thinker.
Chapter Four
“Too good. Really, Gab. Too good. Perhaps the best I have ever read, and I have read too many.”
“I guess it was worth the effort, then.”
“You see, a holiday has done you the
world. Refreshed you. Rejuvenated you, and
I think you really did need it.”
“Do you think I should release it on the
web, now? Just put it up on my website?”
“Don’t you want the royalties? It will make good money, you know.”
“Oh, I will have it published in
paperback as well. But I will give it
for free first on the web and see what readership it gets. It might even sell more in the end because of
it.”
“Not a bad idea,’ responded Aquariel.
The last few days of that month were a
pleasant time of rest and recreation for Gabriel and Aquariel and Gabriel
kissed his sister telling her he loved her as they arrived home in
Terraphon. It had really been a soul
restoring vacation and he was in a very good mood because of it.
Chapter Five
“Number one. Not bad, Gab. Not bad.”
Gabriel smiled at Aquariel. The news reader had just made the
announcement of that weeks best selling novels and Gabriel had come in at
number one with ‘The Final Encounter’.
He had only released a few books previously, and well before such charts
had become a reality, but gaining a number one had really made him
pleased. He leaned over, kissed his
sister, and said ‘I couldn’t have done it without you, Aquariel. I couldn’t have done it without you.’
‘I know,’ she responded, and Gabriel
laughed.
THE END
* * *
“Aquariel – Witches
and Warlocks”
“Very funny, Aqua. Besides, you can’t call it
that. God is really not the biggest fan
of witches and warlocks, as you should know.
He kills them down there.”
“Oh, they never do that. It is just how strict he can get if he wants
to.”
“I don’t know. From what I have heard in Europe they have
started doing that. The church is
getting very serious about God’s laws these days.”
“They are way over-reacting if they
are. Most of the witches I have observed
through the portals are harmless now.
Nothing like they used to be.
They are old women who just like to dabble – a bit of fascination with
the dark arts. Hardly
a devotion to evil like in the old days.
Besides, most of them have heard of God and a lot believe. It really is not the same. Really not the same.”
“Be that as it may, I don’t think Zaphon
will approve. I might be wrong, I mean I
know they are a pretty tolerant bunch these days, but I doubt it.”
“We’ll see,’ responded Aquariel to her brother Gabriel’s objections. ‘We’ll see.”
* *
* * *
He had considered the request for so
long now, three and a half years, and Michael had finally consulted his father
who had remained silent. No comment, not
one word. And when he had declared that,
after considering Aquariel’s detailed philosophical rationalities for the
permission of the text and told his God he would approve unless he commented
otherwise, God had still remained silent.
And so, not really knowing what to ultimately think or say, Michael,
ever so slowly, signed the approval document and the deed was done. But he was cautious, most cautious.
* *
* * *
“So what. So what. I mean, really, so what.” But despite his best manageable grim façade,
Gabriel was softly smiling at her. The
final Encounter had not debuted at number one, but reached it after a few
weeks. But Aquariel, after so long never
putting pen to paper, and debuting at number one on the bestseller chart, had
been bragging a little to her brother about her success. And now, the third week in a row, Gabriel was
starting to get a little riled.
“If you think it is bad now,” she
continued, “Wait for the sequel. I
reckon I can make the all time best selling list within a decade on it.”
“Dream on. You will never take Daniel. All he worries about these days is competing
with himself.”
“So what if he owns the top 10.”
“Top 24 at last count, from memory. Michael worked hard for that 25th
slot. Really, he worked bloody hard.”
“But Daniel has not seen the power of a
woman.”
“Good luck, sis. I think you will need it.”
But Aquariel just went on in her heart
plotting further adventures of wizards and warlocks and dungeons and dragons,
fantasies of glory flooding her mind.
THE END
* * *
“The Gabriel Agenda”
“Gabriel, hey. Mmm. That could be a challenge. He’s not bad at chulara now. Almost has potential, for a
Seraphim that is.”
“Stop bragging Daniel. You know the Seraphim ARE older than us
Cherubim. How about a
little respect.”
Daniel the Cherubim smirked, but
listened to his twin Nadiel’s comment anyway.
‘Yes, okay. I will only beat him
by a little bit, then. How about that?’
“Whatever. You never know, he might knock you off your
perch.”
“Hey, I have been number one long
enough. The kid’s got buckley’s and
none.”
“Pride cometh before the fall, oh high
one.”
“I’ll make sure to be humble. Now Gabriel, huh. I’ll have to think about this. Work on his gameplan. Study it for a while. He seems pretty basic, really. But maybe he’s improved enough to give me a
few seconds of concentrated effort. But
we’ll see.”
“Yes, we will,’ responded Nadiel the
Cherubim.
* *
* * *
“Schmuck. Hundreds of years and bragging
and he kicks your ass. I don’t think he
was even trying. Like
it was child’s play to him.”
“Shaddup.”
“Har, har, har. So tumbles down the kingdom of Daniel the
Cherubim. That will teach you to be
proud.”
“Hey, I was going easy on him. Not even trying, really. I think, perhaps, deep down there was some insane
psychological reason, call it Karma, call it fate, call it – well –
whatever. But there was something
saying go easy on the fellow. He is trying, after all.”
“Yeh right. Dream on. You just weren’t good enough.”
“Mmm. Perhaps. But I am still ranked number one, don’t
forget. Everyone has his bad day. I think he needs to beat me about 5 or 6
times with his current ranking to take my slot.”
“Well, you will have to study then.”
“Yes, I will. This Gabriel – I think he is on the Agenda
now. Work that bugger out and next time,
well, watch out.”
“Good luck. I think you might need it.”
“We’ll see. We’ll see.”
THE END
* * *
“Veldona and Shemrael”
“Veldona picked up the poetry book
again, sat down on her bed, and started reading. But immediately Shemrael burst
into their room and asked her to follow her downstairs. A crowd was gathered. Phanuel was in the centre of the crowd, locked in an arm wrestle with a male cherubim. Veldona turned to Shemrael and asked her,
‘How long has this been going on?’
‘Too long. Nearly 20 minutes.’
Veldona considered the situation and
said, ‘Don’t you think it about time we ended their macho fascinations.’
‘Go ahead,’ said Shemrael.
So Veldona came forward, put her hand on
the struggling competitors and said, ‘Enough.’
Phanuel and the cherubim looked at her, shrugged their shoulders, and
finally stopped. The crowd chuckled and
finally dispersed.
Veldona and Shemrael, making their way
to a small lounge, sat down and started talking. ‘Really, shouldn’t Phanuel know better,’ said
Veldona.
‘But boys will be boys,’ replied
Shemrael.
‘But he is overseer of Romnaphon
keep. He has a standard to maintain.’
‘But even Phanuel need to let off steam
from time to time, Veldona. We all do.
Remember, nobody’s perfect.’
But Veldona, being Veldona, disagreed.
* *
* * *
Later on that year, Veldona perhaps
learned a lesson that Shemrael had prayed she would. She was outside in the gardens of Romnaphon keep,
it was a hot summer day, and suddenly a cherubim threw
a water balloon at her, exploding and splashing on her head. She looked at him, mad as hell, noticed the
pile of water balloons he had made and ran over, stole a few before he could
stop her, and threw one, it exploding on his head. They ended up throwing all the water balloons
at each other, Veldona starting to laugh, when Shemrael appeared, looked at
Veldona and asked, ‘Is such a thing really that appropriate for Veldona the
Cherubim?’
And Veldona smiled, looked at her and
said, ‘Well nobody’s perfect.’ And they
both burst out laughing.
THE END
‘Linda on Fire’
by
Daniel Thomas Andrew
Daly
http://noahidebooks.angelfire.com
© 2010, 2011, 2012,
2013
‘Fire! Burning,
furious, flaming, glorious fire!’
‘And then, Saruviel. And then?’ asked Linda,
anticipating her Lord’s next words.
‘And then, in the fire of life’s glory,
the phoenix arises and destroys her opponents.
It rises, in beautiful glory, putting to death all who would oppose her
majestic brilliance. For
she is undefeatable in her glory.
Undefeatable.’
‘Yes Lord,’ said the child of God, her
innocent eyes staring up at her master.
‘Master, can I please you now?
Can I give you what you desire?’
The dark Lord Saruviel looked down at
his young prodigy. ‘You may, child of
mine. You may.’
* *
* * *
She had served him for a year now. Served him in his master
bedroom, serving his most carnal and sensual desires. Being his servant of lust,
his servant of fire.
And she felt him in her. His fire, his strength, his
purpose, his grand vision. His lust for supremacy over the universe. And, deep inside that fire,
deep inside that lust, a darkness.
A sovereign, malevolent, darkness, full of vengeance towards all that
would oppose it. The
Darkness of sovereign Life itself.
And, knowing the furious glory which would one day be hers, knowing the
absolute sovereign power of that dark fury, she would serve her master. She would serve him, obey him, and follow in
his footsteps to the pinnacle of Majestic Glory. And never would she be persuaded otherwise.
* *
* * *
Michael smiled to himself. Life had its…… Ironies. It had its
ironies. For the fury of a soul
unbridled would challenge all, defeat all, and claim sovereignty. And who dare would oppose? But Michael knew something that was
true. He was on the side of this
sovereignty. He was in Allegiance to the
power of Absolute Life and, sensing it in him as well, but in a different
manner, one in which it really brooked no jealousy of the other one, one which
was content, at peace and calm with itself, serving those children of God who
needed a rock, an anchor of stability, a calm, gentle mooring of the soul in
the turbulence of the seventh one’s passions, he felt happy with himself and
the way things were. And he knew the
truth, the truth which God spoke to his heart in the calm still of night – ‘The head must be responsible, child of mine. For amongst the vibrant waters of lifes
passions, the calm still voice is a solace of stability which all need in the
end. So be that voice, dear
Michael. Be that voice.’
* *
* * *
She was up on stage, overlooking those
gathered at the Kalphon stadium. Kalphora’s
coolest Kids had turned out for the show to see the latest star of Glory the
Realm had to offer. She was number one
now, on the Realm charts. Number one pop princess.
And known as ‘The Phoenix’ she had burned through her
opposition, her vibrant sound electrifying the hearts and minds of her
audience. Saruviel was here
tonight, out the back, lost in his usual thoughts. She desired to please her master. To serve him, to display the glory he had
placed in her heart. She desired to
please the object of her affections and to show him just what Linda the
Cherubim could achieve. Her glory would
be eternal – she knew that in her heart – she knew that, so truly, in her
heart. And tonight she would display her
glory, and all would acknowledge her majestic brilliance. All would bow to the glory of Linda the
Cherubim.
* *
* * *
The Dark Lord smiled to himself. It was time.
He went out on stage, interrupted Linda, and took the microphone. And then he started singing his new ‘Heavy
Metal’ song, ‘Alive with the Fire’. And
the crowd adored it all.
* *
* * *
‘I don’t want to be like every other
girl in the world, Saruviel. I don’t
want to be like every other one who wants you.
I want to come first, Saruviel. I
want to come first.’
‘Something inside me burns when I see
you perform, Linda. Something inside me
burns.’
‘Oh baby. How about some hot action?’ replied Linda.
‘Give it to me baby, uh huh.’
‘Oh, your mine baby. Your mine.’
“Sharakondra”
“Bastard.”
“Oh, Fugg you,” responded Semyaza to his
twin Sharakondra.
“Come on, you never take me anywhere
these days. All the Fugg I get from you
for excitement is a touch up once a week, and
sometimes you are too pissed too even take care of me properly.”
He looked at her, thinking about
that. “Well I can take care of you now
sweetheart. I’m in the mood.”
“Cretin.”
“Heh, heh, heh.”
“Pleeeasse. Can we go shopping. I want to buy a new handbag.”
“I think I’m broke. Spent it all on booze.”
“Oh, no. You’re not broke.”
“Huh.
What gives?”
“That wallet you lost last month.” She picked it out of her handbag. “I found it, and there are heaps of
credits. Definitely
enough for a new handbag for your beloved.”
Semyaza tried to grab the money, but she
kept it out of reach.
“Hand it over, Shara. Bloody hand it over.”
“Not unless you take me shopping.” He thought that over, and looked at his twin,
a slight nudge in his heart from an unknown source.
“Yeh, ok then. Have it your way.” She smiled and walked towards her room.
“I’ll just go change.”
“Don’t be forever putting on your
makeup.”
“Hey, a girl has to look good,” she
shouted from her room.
“Pity you never do,” he said to himself.
“What was that?” she yelled.
“Nothing,” he responded.
“Good.
I’ll be out shortly.
2 hours later, she came out of the room,
finally satisfied with her make up and looked at Semyaza. He had fallen asleep. “Wake up sleepy head,” she said, giving him a
not too friendly shout.”
The sleeping Semyaza was dreaming and
said in his sleep, “No, she’s my girl. Go get your own.”
Sharakondra looked at him suspiciously
but let it go and gave him another shove.
This time he woke up.
“Uh, you’re ready, huh. Ok, I’ll get the keys.”
* *
* * *
Pushing the shopping trolley around the
mall which had amazingly filled up with more than just a handbag, Sharakondra
having also found his missing credit card, Semyaza was anything but happy. He didn’t recognize too many of his Cherubim
brothers and sisters, but one of them gave a slight grin watching him push the
trolley. After having sat on the bench
for yet another two hours, the day getting on, Sharakondra finally appeared
from the dress shop, 4 large bags in her hands.
“For Christ’s sake, how much did you
Fugging spend?”
“Oh, only a few dollars.”
“A few dollars my arse.”
“Here, you can have this back,” she
said, handing him the credit card.
“I suppose you’ll want to eat now.”
She smiled at him. “Oh, Semmy. You are so sweet.”
Despite only being fast food, Sharakondra
enjoyed the meal, and as they drove home she was in a good mood. Of course she knew she couldn’t spend her
twin’s money forever as he wasn’t made of money, she knew that deep, deep down
in that carnal heart of his he loved her and would give her whatever she wanted
if she really insisted. Why he was her
twin, she thought to herself.
That night, as his treat, she kissed him
very passionately, tongues entwined, and gave him what
he wanted from her. She was happy,
now. The clothes were what she wanted
and Semyaza had promised to take her out again on the weekend to a fine
restaurant. All in all things were good
and Sharakondra was a happy little angel – a happy little angel of God.
THE END
* * *
“Michael”
Michael was an angel of God. He lived in the Realm of Eternity, loved his
beloved twin Elenniel who he had married recently, and loved his God as
well. Ambriel, he generally considered,
was his best friend. In
fact by quite a long way. Gabriel
was also close, but it really was Saruviel who he found the most
compelling. The young lad was absolutely
intense – very full on. Naturally, he
didn’t really give a damn about Saruviel’s ego problem – heck he was only an
angel and nobody was perfect. But his
passion was also compelling and Michael enjoyed their chess games which they,
these days, played with quite a friendly but suitably competitive spirit. Daniel was also interesting, but to showy for
Michael. Too excessive
in trying to be the best angel in the universe. But if such was his motivation, well, that
must be the way God made him. Raguel was
a decent angel to Michael. Usually quite consistent now, developing a good sense of authority
and responsibility. Dedicated to
his overseer responsibilities and committed to his task: An admirable angel. Yes, there were many on his mind, often too
many, but such was his affection towards his brethren.
‘Well, what do you think Michael. Is it any
good?’
Michael looked at Ambriel’s new painting
of Meludiel and considered it. ‘It is as
good as anything you have done, Ambriel.
But don’t you get sick of painting pictures of your twin? How about another angel? How about Elenniel? She taught you much at Pelnaphon after all.’
‘Yes, ok. I will do that. But I love Meludiel, ok. I love her.’
‘Doesn’t Daniel continue to bother you
too much though.
That obsession is age long now. Really, gone on far too long.’
‘He’s young. Older than me, but younger
than me.’
‘What is old is young and what is young
is old,’ said Michael, quoting the Seraphim Torah.
‘Yes,’ responded Ambriel. ‘Very true.’
Meludiel came into the office of the
firstborn, smiled at Ambriel, and started speaking to Michael. ‘Today is the day, big
brother. Are you ready?’
‘For what?’ asked Michael, suddenly perplexed.
‘Its our 10,000th
anniversary. I thought you would
remember.’
Ambriel looked at her, puzzled. ’10,000th anniversary of
what?’
‘Since our agreement. Hasn’t Michael told you?’
Ambriel looked puzzled and turned to
Michael. ‘What agreement?’
Michael suddenly remembered. ‘Ohhh. That agreement. So today is the day.’
‘And he has definitely forgotten by
now,’ smiled Meludiel with a little grin on her face.
‘Heh heh heh,’
responded Michael. ‘And he definitely
has it coming to him.’
‘What gives,’ asked Ambriel.
‘Do you remember when Daniel had that
party in the dining room and we were all dressed in our best clothes. And then he ordered his cronies to throw all
those cream pies at us and then starting sloshing chocolate sauce over
everyone.’
Ambriel smiled. ‘Yes I remember.’
‘Well Meludiel swore to him that day,
what did you say Mel?’
‘I’ll get you Daniel. One day, when you least expect it, boom, pow, and you’re gone.’
Ambriel chuckled.
‘Well Meludiel agreed with me to get him
in 10,000 years. And today is the day.’
‘I’m in,’ said Ambriel. ‘This could be fun.’
Later on, after Daniel had been duly
embarrassed, they gave him back his clothing.
Not only had it been bad enough having 50 Seraphim throw cream pies at
him and cover him with chocolate sauce, but when he emerged from the showers
not finding any of his clothes nor any towels and finding every door in the
upper dormitories of the keep locked, then having everyone clamber up the
stairs and laughing at his privates, it was terrible. He had asked them all, one at a time who
thought it up. And finally, stopping at
Meludiel, who had the biggest grin imaginable on her face, he said with the
best of humour possible, but with as much revenge as he possibly could muster,
‘Oooohh, I’ll get you.’ Meludiel had
just laughed, as everyone had, and then Michael had tossed him his robe.
That night Michael had reflected on
Daniel’s embarrassment and feared slightly for his sister Meludiel. But he knew Danny boy and really knew what to
expect. A devilish
vengeance, but with the softest of hearts as well. And then Michael smiled.
THE END
* * *
“Krystabel and the
Clock of Eternity”
‘Time moves forward. Onward, onward we go, Kryssie. Onward, ever onwards, neverending in a lake
of neverending time, covering all that will be, leaving behind all that has
been, and, yet, ever in the present, never being in the past and never being in
the future.’
Krystabel thought on her brother
Cimbrel’s words about the Clock of Eternity, located on the back wall of the
throneroom of Zaphon, and asked him another question.
“As we are Children of Destiny, dearest
Cimbrel, are we victims to a plan of time, a plan in which we flow
neverendingly forward and onwards, victims to the will and power of one greater
than us?”
“Perhaps you should seek the
illuminations of Davriel for such philosophical inquiries, dear sister. Or perhaps even Adruel or Rophiel who also
may be able to help you. I simply study
time and how we flow on endlessly, seemingly at a common rate of understanding
and appreciating it, measured in our beloved hours, minutes and seconds.’
‘Can time stop? Can we travel through time? So many of those newer science fiction and
fantasy novels that come out these days express such fascinating ideas? Are they fact or are they simply entertaining
fiction for our enjoyment?’
Cimbrel sat down on one of the seats in
the throneroom, considering that idea.
‘It is hard to say, Krystabel. It
is hard to say with any absolute certainty.
Our heavenly Father is the creator of all things. All that comes forth has arisen out of his
divine and benevolent heart. Yet, as we
all know, it has flowed from him in his consistency in the medium of time and,
seemingly, how all such creation will continue to flow ever onwards. Perhaps time travel is just a fantasy –
perhaps that is all it is, for how can we truly change
the unchangeable past. But I can not say
for I am a simple angel of modest intelligence.’
Krystabel placed her hand on his
shoulder. ‘You are by no means of modest
intelligence, dear brother.’
‘Thank you.’
* *
* * *
As she sat, just behind the throne,
staring at the clock, Cimbrel having just left, Krystabel thought on the
mysteries of time. ‘On we go, ever
onwards,’ she thought to herself. ‘Ever onwards. And
were shall it end dear father,’ she asked,’ looking behind her at the throne,
which suddenly flickered to bright purple.
‘Were indeed shall it end,’ she again said to herself.
* *
* * *
The Clock of Eternity was an idea of
God. It was a clock, in his intentions,
to measure the infinite, unending future before the Angels of Glory, to give
them an appreciation of each hour and day, and each month and year which it
also measured. Such a thing as the
measuring of time, in God’s understanding, would give the angels a sense of
stability. A sense of
everyday consistency and continuity, not besides the fact that it was an
excellent tool for organising their time on a daily basis. And while the Father of Glory reminded
himself to never brag of his accomplishments, he was quietly pleased with
himself about the creation of the clock and often deliberately observed its
unending flow from the throne of his glory.
* *
* * *
Krystabel sat in her room, at a desk, in
Kalphon keep and looked over the poem she had just
finished composing. A poem dedicated to
the clock of eternity. Reading it again
she read:
Time in Motion, by Krystabel the
Seraphim
Time in motion, Seraphim delight
Glory in our days, passion in our night
Time in motion, Neverending joy
A glorious delight for every girl and
boy
The Clock of Eternity, Fathers great
design
Flowing ever onwards, throughout the
sands of time
The Clock of Eternity, Fathers precious
will
Guiding us each day, and I suppose it
always will
Time in motion, measuring our days
Helping us to organise in many different
ways
Time in motion, a simple useful joy
A glorious delight for every girl and
boy
She smiled to herself, liked the poem, and
thought that she might just put it up on the web on her website. But when she would, well time would only
tell.
‘Bantriel the
Seraphim’
“France will never surrender, I tell
you. We will fight you English devil’s
forever and a day if that is what it takes.”
‘Calm down Bantriel. Calm down froggie.’
‘Sariel, you never cease to amaze me,
you know. Not only has France defeated
you for the last century at your beloved football which you mistakenly claim to
be the best at, but we kick your smelly English ass at Tennis time after
time. An Englishman
good at Tennis? Why that is like
a German claiming they are good at lovemaking.
I mean all those German grunts and moans – really, their women must
think they are making love to beasts.’
Sariel grinned at that – after all a
good Englishman never minded insulting the Germans. It was fair sport as far as he was concerned.
‘Lighten up on the Germans. They are your neighbours after all.’
‘Yes, and don’t we know it. But, back to the main
point, our wager my fine English friend.
I have the utmost confidence in our team, now. We have trained a long time at this ‘Cricket’
you find so fascinating and we are ready to enter the competition. I have confidence we will win the first
series against you, at least 4 – 1. If
you are so confident, then put your money where your mouth is. Sariel looked at his French neighbour and
thinking on some of the words Bantriel had just spoken came to another
decision. Tell you what. If you manage to beat us at all I will pay
you your money, but in return you must play the Germans at the game. They are getting good now. But if they beat you in response you must pay
me back the wager ten times over. Do we
have an agreement?’ Bantriel considered
this idea, thought about the Germans who were not as good as the English, and
felt it worth the risk. ‘You have a
deal, English swine. Prepare to be
humiliated.’
‘I will prepare,’ responded Sariel.
* *
* * *
It was another side to Gamrayel from
Narel’s viewpoint. After having heard
the insult Bantriel had made to Sariel about German lovemaking Gamrayel had
fumed, determined to not only beat the French should they lose to the English,
but utterly humiliate them. And the
overseer of Germany in Terraphon, while never ever really one given over to
competition, started bowling that afternoon, a vengeful look on his face. ‘You better watch out Bantriel,’ was all that
Narel thought to herself.
* *
* * *
‘But why must you continue to be so rude
to Sariel and Gamrayel. Really, we have
been neighbours for so long now that such a tirade is getting tiring,
Bantriel. Truly
tiring.’ Bantriel considered his
twin, Ashayziel’s words, but almost completely disregarded them. ‘Oh, it is only playful banter, Ashy. It is only playful banter, and I think both
Sariel and Gamrayel understand that.’
‘But I think you often offend them none
the less without really realizing it. We
are Seraphim, you know. That has always
supposed to mean something. That we set a standard of decency for our younger Cherubim
brethren. They look up to us, you
know. They still do and probably always
will. Perhaps your words could be toned
down somewhat. Still be competitive, but
with less hostility. A little more friendly, okay.’
He considered that, nodded to her,
thought about being stubborn in his reply, but generally conceded the
point. ‘Perhaps I have been too hard on
them for too long. Yes, we are brothers
– that is important. I guess we must get
along forever, so rivalries should be tolerable.’
‘Yes.
Friendly.
No viciousness, which is not fit for an angel. But kindness, even if you must use humour.’
‘Very well. I shall apologize to Sariel and
Gamrayel. I will let them know I was
only having a go.’
‘Very good,’ replied the ninth born of
the female Seraphim of Eternity.
* *
* * *
But try as he might, and while Gamrayel
did in fact forgive his brother, he would keep his grudge and kick Frances ass
at the cricket match arranged. They
would have their bitter vengeance and treat France a lesson. A lesson Bantriel would not forget.
* *
* * *
They were reluctant but at Sariel’s
request England went terribly soft on the French in the series and lost it 3 –
2. Bantriel didn’t brag quite as much as
he had done before and received Sariel’s money happily. But Sariel was present the following week at
the match against the Germans and, game finished, Bantriel had to sign a cheque
as he had not enough cash on him to fulfil his obligations. ‘England thanks you very
much, dearest Bantriel. We will
put you’re money to good use, let me assure you of that.’
‘Well it is only money, Sariel. And we did defeat your land of glory after
all.’
‘That you did. And well played – France performed well.’
Later on that week Bantriel had been on
a little sabbatical, up in Northern Terraphora, reflecting on his commitments
made to his God earlier in life and the Torah which had faithfully promised his
father to study. And reading through some
of the words he realized that, perhaps, for a while he had been coming up short
of the standard he needed to be setting.
But, thinking that, and thinking over the eternal future of France
before him, he decided that it was time for a general change in the French
attitude. One more of
love, kindness and friendliness.
Not so much bragging and hostility, especially towards their English
neighbours who had grown sick of the attitude.
Yes, France would change, they would grow and mature, and in the destiny
before him he silently prayed to his God for a blessing of glory upon his
beloved French people. A blessing which would last for all eternity.
“Matrel and the Diviner of Untold Miseries.”
It was haunting. Truly haunting. He had never yet been to the gypsy’s tent at
the Romnaphon circus but had been told about it many times from Amiel who had
said the gypsy read her fortune. But
sitting there inside the tent, all sorts of elaborate mystical designs covering
the tent walls, designs featuring dragons and wyverns and hippogriffs and
cockatrices and all sorts of fantastical creatures becoming popular in angelic
fantasy, as well as the traditional witches and warlocks, wizards and
spellcasters and all sorts of fantastic imagery, some of it quite dark, all
that Matrel could say was that he was haunted by it all. Finally, after feeling in no way like he
usually felt at home, almost as if another Matrel was sitting in his place, one
who had less concerns, less worries, about all the cautious and careful ways
Matrel the Seraphim usually followed, Matrel gazed at the gypsy as she
re-entered from the other side of the tent, carrying with her the crystal ball.
‘So that is it, is it? You look into the crystal ball and in some
grand interpretation of all that is work out my own future.’
The cherubim chuckled. ‘Child of God, do ye yet not know the
mysterious ways of the darkness. Surely,
sayeth I, you have learned in your sojourn through time of the power of the
dark ones. They are all around us,
teaching us, showing us their power and glory – we have only to yield and let
them take us, show us their passion, show us there
power. And they will teach you your
future dear Matrel. If you will just
gaze with me into the ball of destiny we will see of what will be.’
Matrel wanted to scoff. Really, he did – but he would suspend his
disbelief for the moment and allow the old crony to have her say. In the end it couldn’t hurt, could it?
‘Gaze into your destiny, child. Gaze at your future?’
Right then a spirit of the dark came
upon Matrel the Seraphim – one of the seven Saruvim of Infinity, Samaen, who
usually undertook this role which his Saruvim elder Satan had appointed him to
– and noticing it was a Seraphim decided upon a future of bleak darkness, one
of untold miseries.’
As he watched he saw himself with Amiel
it Shadlaphon. But suddenly a storm hit
and wind shook the roof of Shadlaphon keep, collapsing upon Amiel and injuring
her greatly. Matrel gasped, shocked for
the safety of his twin, alarmed at this supposed fate in store for her. He yelled to the gypsy ‘Stop. That is a lie – that can’t happen.’
‘The ball only reveals what might be or
what will be dear Matrel. I can not say,
in truth, what destiny holds for your life, but beware these portents – beware
them and take them to heart.’
As he continued to gaze he was at Zaphon
with Ambriel. Ambriel had been dismissed
from Zaphon forever by Michael due to him insulting God. Somehow he understood this from the vision. As Matrel watched Ambriel became despised in
the community and his name ridiculed and all that Matrel could think was how
sorry he felt for the brother he cared for so greatly, one of such great love
and friendship.
‘Truly you are showing me horrors,
gypsy. Truly you are showing me
miseries.’
‘Watch on, brave soul. Forsooth the ball will grant you kinder
visions yet.’
But, as he watched, the third horror
seemed worst of all. Fire was ravaging
all throughout Terraphora, destroying all in its path, seemingly destroying the
undying angels. And as he watched it
leaped over the rim and headed through Zaphora for Zaphon and then the vision
ended. He felt sick in his stomach then,
almost unable to watch any further, but the gypsy said to him, ‘There yet
remains one more vision, brave child of God.
Watch on and see what your future holds.’
As he watched he stood in front of a
large precipice and looking down darkness, a void of evil, lay below. And then a hand of evil reached up and
grabbed him and dragged him downwards, ever downwards, into the ultimate abyss
of insanity. And then it was over.’
Later on, having finished vomiting up
his lunch, Matrel swore he would never return to that gypsy. She had given him unimaginable horrors
through her divinations and, holding his stomach, walking back to the keep, Matrel
felt a hand of darkness touch his soul saying, in a voice of unimaginable evil,
‘Beware child of God. Beware.’
‘Callodyn and Kayella’
31,223 HY
5,914 SC
‘You know, Kayella. I wish you were split 6 different ways so I
could have six times the fun. Really, I
think you are that hot, babe.’
Kayella looked at her twin – the
ultimate dork. ‘Yeh, Cal, you would say
that. Typical for your
insanity.’
‘Aww, go easy ok. I was only joking. Having a bit of fun.’
‘So what the Fugg would you do with six
of me then?’
‘Yeh, well probably a lot of that.’
‘I beg your pardon. What was that?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Mmm. Well, go on. What would you do with six of me?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Sing songs with you. Perhaps the six of you could form a
band. Call yourselves ‘Kayella’ and be
the biggest girl band of all eternity.’
‘What happens if someone leaves the
band? Huh? What would you do then?’
‘Another band and the other girl can go
solo.’
‘Mmm. Well what if another girl leaves
the band? What then?’
‘Uh. They release a new album. It will still sell forever anyway.’
‘Forever, huh?’
‘Yeh, Forever.’
Kayella smiled. Callodyn was her twin, he was the absolute
king of dorks of the universe, but she loved him anyway.
‘Six Kayellas. I mean,
more of you to love. I could have a girl
every day of the week and rest on the Sabbath.’
‘The Sabbath? Oh, yeh, Saturday. And who is your Saturday girl?’
‘Mmm. Fugg it, Georgia. She’ll do.
She’ll be my rest day Saturday girl?’
‘But she isn’t your twin?’
‘No, I just hang around with her on
Saturday. Talk crap and the usual
stuff.’
‘No hanky panky?’
‘Not on your life. Zac would be pissed.’
‘Yeh, he probably would be. Well, okay then. Now that we have started becoming human I
will pray to God that he makes me six separate girls on earth. How about that?’
Callodyn looked shocked, not sure what
to say.
‘You were serious, weren’t you?’
‘Uh, yeh, I guess.’
‘Then it is settled. Kayella shall be six divine maidens, forever
on from that point onwards. One for each day of the week, with Georgia on your rest day. It should give me plenty of time to get some
women’s work done, as I will only have to concentrate on you a sixth of the
time.’
‘Or is that a seventh?’
‘Whatever.’
“The Cherubim
Navindra”
Navindra, 373rd born of the female
Cherubim of Eternity, sitting with her twin Sachin in the library of Delhi,
smiled softly at the subtlety in the new book that Daniel the Seraphim had
finished writing. It had grace, kindness
and forgiveness in it, qualities Daniel didn’t always utilize but sometimes
alluded to in the most comical of circumstances. She had just finished chapter one of ‘This
funny thing called life’ and after showing her twin some of the funny lines,
was reflecting. Her life also had its
memorable moments. Gentle little times
when everything was going as it should be and suddenly, out of the blue, one of
lifes little ironies showed up and reminded you why you were here in the first
place. ‘To love, of course,’ Navindra
thought to herself in a natural response to that thought and suddenly jumped as
if in some kind of divine response Sachin suddenly kissed her on the cheek.
‘What was that for?’ she asked her twin.
‘I just wanted to show my
affection. There is no harm in that, is there?’
She put her hands in his hands and
replied, ‘No, Sachin. There is no harm
in that.”
* *
* * *
As she finished shopping in down town
Delhi, trudging the streets back to their shiny new abode, Navindra reflected
on the generous cheque she had just received from Zaphon. Quite a large number of credits for her
lifelong devotion’s at Assembly to God and for all her
loving prayers, according to the words of Michael himself. It was lovely, truly lovely, and she smiled
to herself all that afternoon as she walked home, just wondering to herself
what in fact she would spend the impressive amount on. ‘Perhaps Daniel’s full collection,’ she
thought to herself. ‘Or even some of
Meludiel’s new books. She was really
very impressive now as well.’ Sachin
kissed her as she came in carrying the groceries and took the bags from her
hands, starting to unpack them and sort them out. ‘I will cook tonight, Navindra. I am in the mood for something special,
especially after our great recent blessing.’
‘But we mustn’t spend it all at once,
Sachin. It won’t last forever.’
‘But it will for many years to come, so
let’s spoil ourselves for a while.
Remember, we only live once.’
Navindra softened, smiled at him, and
nodded. It would be a good way for them to
enjoy themselves and, yes, you only lived once.
You only lived once.’
“Phanuel and Brindabel”
“Yes, we are Australian.”
“Quite dark skinned for Aussies, mate.”
“We are the original Australians,” said Brindabel.
The Cherubim looked at his oldest Australian brother and sister,
the Aboriginal Phanuel and Brindabel the Seraphim and finally conceded the
point. “But what are all these languages
you speak? They’re not English.”
“They are Australian languages, Daraqel. I spent many years at Zaphon researching
linguistics and developing original new tongues for Romnaphora. I know there are not many of us Aboriginal
Australians, but we are your forefathers.”
Phanuel nodded, stating, “Sariel approached us once. It was difficult because he wanted a lot of
our room in Romnaphora which he had claimed for his own community. Claimed he had too many now to fit them all
in and needed room in Romnaphora. We
were reluctant at first and I had many bitter words against him, but I finally
conceded. And now around 20,000 English
Angels reside in Romnaphora. But that is
just the way it is.”
“Well, I am a dinky die true blue Aussie,’ responded Daraqel the
Cherubim. “And Romnaphora is my land as
well.”
“And we are happy to have you,” responded Brindabel, sixth born of
the female Seraphim of Eternity.
* * *
* *
Phanuel, sitting in his office in Canbraphon in Romnaphora,
reflected on a busy and hectic week. The
cricket match had been most entertaining and Australia had just beaten the
English again. Those tests were really
starting to become absorbing watching and Shamus Warne was constantly
improving. But he had his eye on Sariel
who played for England and would one day, time permitting, compete with that
one to keep him in check.
Brindabel came into his office carrying a tray of freshly cooked
cookies with a jug of milk. As they sat
at his window, eating the cookies and drinking the milk, they talked
small-talk. But it was a pleasant enough
afternoon and Phanuel went to bed in a good enough
mood.
* * *
* *
She looked out over Golden Lake, glad to be back in Zaphora for a
holiday, even though Phanuel only had a few days with her before council
began. He rowed slowly, carefully and
then, finally satisfied they were out far enough, put out his rod and
waited. Brindabel dipped her hands in
the water, looking down at the fishes.
And then an electric eel quickly came up and made as if to bite her, so
she suddenly jerked her hand back out of the water. ‘Careful,’ said Phanuel. ‘Those things leave a nasty zap.’ She looked at him and nodded softly. She would be more careful next time.’
Picking up his catch of fish they had decided to cook them on an
open fire near the shore of Glimmersphon.
Brindabel had gathered the wood and Phanuel had rubbed two sticks
together for a while, getting the fire started.
As they sat there, eating the fish, and drinking from the large jug of
water they had brought with them, they looked as the clouds to the south of the
lake started rolling towards them. ‘It
will rain,’ Phanuel said. Brindabel
thought it over and replied, ‘Let it.’
He just nodded.
They put up with the rain for about 20 minutes before finally, each
agreeing they were well and truly soaked, made there way up to Glimmersphon
keep, Dameriel standing at the doorway glad they had finally come to their
sense. “Now come inside,” said
Dameriel. “I will put on the stew.”
They ate there meals, happy and content, but Phanuel thought to himself
that the wild nature of God, the untamed beauty of nature itself, well
confronting that and living full on in the elements, it had an appeal that the
indoor life just simply couldn’t compare with.
But he was enjoying his stew out of the cold rain he later thought to
himself.
THE END
‘The Days of Summer
Past’
Chapter One
14,300 ROE
New Terra was approaching. New life was approaching. New beginnings were approaching. But for Melanie, 34th born of the
Female Cherubim of the Realm of Eternity, most of her focus was on the days of
summer past. She sat in her rocking
chair in her small abode near one of the larger keeps at the edge of the
Terraphoran Rim, near the south of Terraphora.
She sat in her rocking chair, reflecting over days gone by. She sat there thinking over one special Summer past, just a few thousand years ago. One special summer in which her twin,
Laquenta, had grown close to her. A special summer in which she had known true love.
11,176 ROE
‘So you want to hit the beach, then?’ Melanie could tell by the tone in Laquenta’s
voice that he was being quite serious.
‘But it is barely Spring, Laqy. The beach will still be freezing.’ ‘I know.
But I don’t mind the cold.
Besides, we haven’t been swimming together for years.’ ‘I know.
Perhaps when summer comes around, okay.’ ‘I’ll hold you to that.’ ‘Consider me held,’ she responded smiling at
him.
As Spring
passed and summer began Melanie looked forward to her time with Laquenta. For she had grown somewhat
close to him now. Somewhat close
and, in the love she desired to have in her heart, Laquenta her twin seemed by
the standards of the realm, a thoroughly good choice. And so she looked forward anxiously to the
return of her twin that Summer.
She was out in the front garden, digging
down into the dirt, occasionally taking a sip of lemonade from a glass that
still had ice in it, when someone hailed her.
She looked up, ever so pleased.
It was him – he had returned.
He came up to her, grabbed her in his
arms, and gave her a hug. And then,
taking flowers from behind his back were they had been hidden, he gave them to
her, his face beaming. ‘The car is out
the front. Why don’t you go and change
inside and we will head to Lake Sharday.
The weather is awesome today so the beach should be perfect.’ Melanie nodded, smelling the roses. They were perfect, just like her twin
Laquenta. She went inside to change and
choosing the swimming garments she had already had placed beside her bed, put
them on and put on a coat over the top.
She quickly prepared a small basket of fruit and some chicken which she
had left over, and buttering some bread rolls, grabbed her hat and made it out
to the front to join him.
He looked at her, smiling. ‘Ready sweetie?’ ‘As ready as I will ever be?’ The car took off and, soon coming to a major
road, began the trip to Lake Sharday, an hours driving distance from were
Melanie lived.
Chapter Two
11,706 ROE
She looked at the large shell
intently. ‘Here, put it to your ear,’
said Laquenta, and placed the shell next to Melanie’s ear. ‘Can you hear the sound of the lake?’ She nodded.
‘Its wonderful,’ she said, and he smiled. They had swum for a while and then laid down to bake in the sun. And now he was playing with sand making
sandcastles and putting shells to her ear.
She looked at him, smiling. It
was a wonderful day and she really wished it would never end. Soon they sat down on their beach blanket,
looking around the beach noting around fifty or so angels scattered here and
there. Eating there lunch Melanie
thought on the relationship which appeared to be developing with her twin. He was certainly handsome, was Laquenta. And of good moral
character. He was not overly
wealthy, maintaining a basic farming position in the rostered work and doing
not much else, but he had told her he’d had a lot saved. That would be good, she thought to herself.
‘Here.
Take a strawberry.’ He put it to
her mouth and she opened up, swallowing and chewing on it. ‘That was yum,’ she said. ‘How about another?’ He proceeded to place four more to her mouth
and she delighted in the taste. Some
thoughts came to her as she was sitting there.
Thoughts about her future and just what Laquenta could possibly mean to
her. And so deciding to take a risk she
asked him an important question. ‘Laqy. I know you
have a steady job and it pays ok. But do
you ever dream of more? Do you ever wish
to make something of your life? You are
one of the older Cherubim, so you could take a risk, you know.’ Laqy continued eating his chicken roll and
chewing it, looked at her. ‘You know, Mel. For us Cherubim after the first 20 or so, it
matters less and less were you are on the list.
I mean, in truth, the first half a dozen of us get noticed, but then it
is just one of the pack. One cherubim out of
1,400,000, you know. Just
another commoner in a sense.’
Melanie nodded, understanding instantly what he was saying. ‘I know, Laqy. I know.
But a lot of angels read our Cherubim Torah now and your name is well
known because of it. You are right near
the top, just like myself, and many know who you are
because of it. Surely with that fame you
might be able to make something of your life.’
Laquenta considered her words. In
a way they sounded true. Yes, because of
his birthright in the Cherubim community and especially because many got to
know his name, being high on the list of Cherubim Torah, he did have a small
amount of fame. Certainly
nothing to be compared to a Michael or a Saruviel of the Seraphim. But he had a small degree of it. ‘And do what with my fame, exactly?’ asked
Laquenta, curiousity aroused. She looked
at him, considering his point. ‘Oh, I
don’t know. Something. Anything, I guess. I mean life is there for the taking as Torah
says. We make of it what we will. Surely there is something you are good at and
which you can become successful at. You
just need to apply yourself a little bit.
He looked at her seriously and after a while nodded. ‘You could be right, Mel. You could be right.’ She smiled.
He was listening – that was good.
Maybe it would bring forth some action.
She liked to think so anyway.
The finished off their meal and returned
to Melanie’s home. Asking him if he
would like to stay the night, Laquenta agreed and she made up the bed in the
spare bedroom. It would be nice, she
thought to herself, having a man stay the night. It would make quite a nice change she
thought, as she started placing the new sheets on his bed.
Chapter Three
‘I guess, yes Mel. I have given it a lot of thought, your
words. And this past summer has been
great for me. Great
for us. I have drawn closer to yourself, closer than ever before. And what you said at the beginning of this
summer has been on my mind. On my mind constantly.
So I decided if I was going to do something I may as well start by
writing something. Some sort of piece of
literature. And I decided on a
poem. A poem which, perhaps, expresses
the feelings both of us have on this very topic. And it is a poem which, I think, says what it
really needs to say. It is called ‘Stuck’’ Laquenta
handed his twin the poem. She looked at
him, a nervous smile on her face, and sat down at the table to read the poem.
Stuck
By Cherubim Laquenta
Stuck
Trying to be someone I’m not
Jealous of those at the top
Wishing that I had a lot
Stuck – Stuck in this life
Fear
Is that what is holding me down
Denying me life’s greatest crown
Keeping me stuck in this town
Fear – Holding me down
Fame
Something that all of us desire
To set this world on fire
To build our own empire
Fame – We all want to get higher
Yet
Love
In patience what I need comes to be
As the love of God is towards me
In the prison of life I’ll be free
Love – the gift we all need
Melanie left off reading the poem. It was short, succinct, and really to the
point. And, ever so slightly
embarrassed, she nodded at her twin. He
had spoken well. So
well. It was as if he already
knew the desires of the heart. To be someone. To be great. To be
all that he could be. But then it was as
if he already knew the answer to those desires.
And those desires were answered in the one who alone could truly give
you what you need. She smiled at him,
nodded, and gave him a hug. ‘Thank you
Laquenta. That was perfect.’ And then she giggled a little. ‘I will take it to Terraphon, ok. See if I can get it put into a poetry
anthology by someone.’ Laquenta just
shook his head. She didn’t give up that
easily. ‘As you wish,
Mel. As you
wish.’ And they both chuckled a
little.
Chapter Four
That summer drifted to a lazy conclusion
and, as Autumn began, Laquenta had headed back to
Terraphora to resume his work duties. He
promised another visit next summer, and Melanie promised to wait for him
anxiously. That summer came and went, as
did a number the two spent together.
But, unfortunately in a way, after a few hundred years, they again
drifted somewhat. But that happens. That inevitably happens it seemed between
many of the twins and many of the relationships you made in life. And sitting on her rocking chair, over 3,000
years later, Melanie reflected on the reality of such a long life and the
relationships which came and went.
14,300 ROE
She often thought that throughout
eternity she was destined to gain friendships with all the angels of the realm
– that perhaps that was the whole point as to why relationships usually had a
spurt to them, but dwindled after time.
Perhaps they just needed a good refreshing period. A time apart. Even thousands of years
apart, just to make new friends and live a new life. But Laquenta, in the last few years, had been
visiting her again. And he promised that
this summer and, if she didn’t mind, for a number of decades, they would resume
their strong friendship. It was almost
like the coming and the going of the seasons.
Friends for a while, but you moved on.
But in the cycles or the seasons of life old friends came around
again. Almost renewed. And the love and trust you had once built had
been restored and things took on new meaning and growing meaning. Perhaps this was just a secret to life – to
life eternal. Ever-changing
in many ways, but ever the same as well.
And perhaps that was just the wisdom of her eternal father at work. She liked to think so anyway.
She got up from her rocking chair late that
day and went inside. The webnet was
still on and she took another look at some of the plans for the new creation of
Terra. It was exciting news – very
exciting. And from what the articles
said mankind’s number was intended to go on perpetually. In a way that daunted her. She could never really meet all the children
of men, then. It would take time
unlimited. But perhaps that was simply
the way it was meant to be for mankind.
Still, she had her angelic family and in them she knew she could take eternal
consolation. There would, she guessed,
always be days of summer past to reflect upon in the long life she would
live. And even now days of summer
present to enjoy, once again, life with her friend Laquenta. And by the grace of her
eternal father, unlimited days of summer future. But that was life, wasn’t it. That was life. With an eternal father who had given them the
gift of eternal life before all of them were endless days of summer future and
endless days of summer past to reflect upon.
And that gave a cheerful smile to Melanie the Cherubim, 34th
born of the female Cherubim of the Realm of Eternity.
THE END
“Saruviel of Eternity”
13,000 HY
‘500 years,’ he thought to himself.
‘500 years he has been gone, and I am now finally forgiven.’ Saruviel the Cherubim, 79th born
male of the Cherubim of Eternity, one of the 140 Cherubim who bore the same
names as their Seraphim elders, was somewhat consoled in his heart. He felt gentle again, as if the long trial of
his soul had reached its climax and God had finally breathed new life into his
being. Saruviel thought on his younger
years, how he had been a gentle angel, eager to please the eldest of the
Cherubim, Semyaza, and be shown proper and decent before his God. As he sat there, finishing off his cigarette
in his Terraphoran abode, the outer disc of the Realm of Eternity, he thought
on the long struggle of the soul he had just been through. It had been hard, at nights, almost as if
some ungodly winter night had persisted in his abode, unwilling to yield to the
warmer temperatures outside. But when he
fled outside for comfort, which he did often, the cold followed him, shrouding
him with its love. Saruviel had always
idolised his elder Seraphim namesake. He
knew that in his heart. And sitting
there in his small abode, in the upper north of the Terraphora district of the
outer realm also known as Terraphora, again in the middle of winter, again the
cold night hovering over him, he felt relieved after the recent encounter in
the throneroom of Terraphon. He
remembered that morning explicitly, prostrating himself before the throne of
God, asking for forgiveness in joining Saruviel the Seraphim’s rebellion, and
then finding the spirit of God comforting him and speaking to his heart that
all was now well. And he remembered even
more explicitly the moment Gabriel had covered him with his arms, comforting
him as he got to his feet in that throneroom, speaking calming words to a heart
which had been rendered to the extremities.
And then Gabriel had given him the letter, engraved with the Most High’s
seal, written by Gabriel’s hand from the words of God. The letter had spoken from the Book of
Judgement. It had quoted various
sections and God addressed Saruviel personally, instructing him to learn and
remember the lessons contained therein.
For it was a fundamental lesson on life this Cherubim needed to learn.
His older brother, Saruviel the Seraphim, had an eternal
destiny. God had shared that with
him. But he had shared also that one
day, one dim and distant day in the future, there would come a day of
judgement. And on that day Saruviel the
Seraphim would answer for all the proud claims which he had spoken against God. And in the letter God spoke of a place called
Sheol, a horrible place of death, and gave Saruviel the Cherubim this
warning. ‘LIFE BELONGS TO THOSE WHO
HONOUR HER. BUT THE WAYS OF DEATH,
SHOULD YOU WISH TO TREAD DOWN THEM, LEAD ONLY TO HORROR UPON HORROR AND
ULTIMATELY DARKNESS. CHOOSE WELL MY CHILD.’
They had been strong, bold and fearful words Saruviel thought to
himself, sitting in front of the burning fireplace in his abode, the smoke
rising up through the chimney, perhaps bringing with it the fears he had now
let go of, blowing off into the winds of eternity, by God’s grace scattered
forever. But now, by his father’s grace,
new life was begun. New life, new spirit
had entered his heart, speaking of mercy and forgiveness and new
beginnings. And thinking on that blessed
thing, that feeling he was slowly becoming intoxicated with, Saruviel prayed a
silent prayer of thanks as the cold darkness outside continued on in its
eternal duty.
The End
* * *
* *
“Dragon”
“Jesus. Why the fuck would I
worry about that cretin. He’s pathetic. Fucking pathetic.”
Damien looked down, scared. Very scared. “He is
not what you think Sat. Not what you
bloody think. He’s a fucking cunt. Fucking evil.”
“Hey, he is cool if he is evil.”
“Not when it’s God’s bloody evil he uses.”
Satan stopped, a little more cautious, and looked at Damien. “Well, what exactly did he do?”
“It wasn’t as bad as that time, but the Father must have been
teaching him. Must have shown him a few
tricks of the trade. I don’t fucking
know why he would choose the cunt, but he did.”
Satan stopped, thought it over, and conceded the point. “Well I am going to have a fucking go
anyway. So what. It wasn’t that fucking bad.”
Damien looked at him, thinking it over. “I’ll stick with you for now Satan. We have been through too fucking much for me
not too. But fuck, mate. I mean fuck.
When it comes to the day, if he is serious and he means it, then you can
fuck yourself. Every man for himself, you know. Every man for himself.”
Satan looked at Damien, thought of calling him gutless, but
reconsidered. On this point, perhaps
this point alone, he wouldn’t complain.
He’d let him be on that.
* * *
* *
“The Dragon?”
“Yes John. And before you
say anything, I know the book is bloody dramatic, but it was supposed to
be. It was meant to be that way.”
“I didn’t think he had pissed you off that much. Azazel is a lot worse, don’t you think?”
“Very funny. Azazel has his points. You should know that.”
“So you keep on telling me.
I still don’t know if I fully trust you on that.”
“Hey, keep the faith bro.
Keep the faith.”
“Yeh, whatever.”
* * *
* *
God thought it over for years.
Years and bloody years but finally, deciding that life may as well have
its way, allowed him the planned ending.
It would certainly ruffle feathers for a long time. Scare the living hell out of people –
literally. But that was the way with
revelation, especially a book named it.
He just hoped Jesus would eventually get a grip and not let it go to his
head. But only time would tell on that –
only time would tell.
The End
* * *
* *
“The 700,000”
“For
fuck’s sake, Mikie. Have you got
those figures? Get the fuck over
it. Just get the fuck over it.”
“Go away Sariel. Just go
away. I don’t care. We are more important. We just are.”
“That is your spiritual pride, and nothing more. I have your figures – 50. Not one more amongst the Cherubim. 50 Hebrew Angels compared to our 700,000
Cherubim Angels – exactly half the number and, ironically, 350,000 males and
350,000 females. I think father pays you
lip service but his heart is with us. It
is the way it really is, buddy.”
“Fuck off,” said Michael, slightly pissed at his brother’s
facts. They were really bugging him.
“So get the fuck over saying you are the special ones. We’ll make you look like a joke in the end,
ok. A complete joke.”
“Prove it,” said Michael, but in his heart he was defeated.
* * *
* *
Later on that week Sariel, a bit disappointed at his Father’s
attitude, let the issue drop. Fine, he
could accept him starting with Israel – they got a lot less after all. But, fortunately, they were second on the
list after Israel’s long run of vanity.
Sariel had made sure of that fact.
* * *
* *
Ambriel sighed. “Yes, I am
afraid so. They all bloody speak
English. All 700,000
of them. Just
way too many to compete with. I
mean, they all like Israelites a little, but not for them. Not sophisticated enough they all say. Not that impressive.”
“Oh well, Ambriel. Such is
life.”
“The Problem is, Michael, Noah has joined them. Told us to go to hell with all the things we
have been trying to convert him to. Says
he may as well be English now. “
“Leave that Rainbow freak alone, Ambriel. If he is not loyal to us then it is his
problem.”
“Why should he be? Just why
should he be? He never said he had
joined us anyway. He never
committed. And frankly, I just don’t
think he ever will. It is a lost cause.”
“Ambriel…. “
But the Father of Glory had had enough, and spoke to Michael’s
heart. “SORRY SON. THEY ARE SARIEL’S FLOCK AND THAT IS JUST THE
WAY IT IS.”
And Michael, feeling those words in his spirit, excused himself
from Ambriel, went out of the room, put his hand to his head and just
wept. He had not been successful this
time and would have to live with the result.
Whatever that may be.
The End
* * *
* *
“Just a few more”
“Callodyn. You are sooooo bloody cheeky. Soooo bloody cheek. But I like that. I’m in.”
The Cherubim Callodyn smiled.
Another convert to his crusade. They were doing well now – nearly 650,000 new
ones, now, on top of Sariel’s work of 700,000 – practically the entire Cherubim
community. He was starting to think that
might just be enough. Maybe that
pipsqueak of an Angel Mikie boy, God’s precious little brat, would get the
fucking point. Callodyn fucking hated
Israelites – they could fuck themselves as far as he was concerned. Really, they could go and fucking jump.
“BUT MR DALY, ARE THEY NOT YOUR BELOVED BRETHREN. SURELY YOU SHOULD NOT THINK SUCH THOUGHTS,
SAYETH I. OR DO YE YET NOT LOVE, CHILD
OF MINE?”
‘Hey, don’t speak to me about not fucking loving mate. You had your fucking chance. I gave you centuries of service – fucking
centuries of them, and you never conceded my points or gave me what I
wanted. So your Israelite son can truly
fuck himself. No, I don’t fucking hate
him, but he is not my cup of tea. He
never will be, ok. I am an Englishman
and that is the way it really is. The
way it really is.’
“BUT THEY ARE JEALOUS.”
‘You know my objections.
Their problems, not mine. I am
not joining that abomination of a religion.
It can burn in deepest depths of hades as far as I am concerned, and
frankly I hope it does, perhaps with a few of its demented practitioners to
boot. Oh, and one last point. I am yet to concede you actually love at
all. I don’t think you know the meaning
of it. I really don’t. Tickle and fluff, a fancy trinket, I think
that is your idea of love. I think that
is your idea of love. So please, do not
bother me again.’
‘SORRY.’
* * *
* *
Later on Callodyn felt a little sad for his God, but realized the
old fellow needed to learn a lesson of the heart. One he had forgotten a long time ago. And then, counting the new numbers, he gave
up worrying. They had enough – enough of
the flock. Israel could try, but it
didn’t matter now. They would gain the
glory. And thinking on his father and
his father’s own concessions that he would play fairly Daniel was
satisfied. After all, Israel had not
bothered in the end, yet such was life. The English workers and the other lazy ones – a fundamental lesson
on existence.
The End
* * *
* *
“Callodyn’s Pride”
Callodyn, sitting in a dormitory in Zaphon, having just come from
the throneroom, admitted to himself that God’s suggestion that he was just a
little proud was, perhaps, true. And
while God had said to him, if he so wished, that the Cherubim could end up
citizens of the English Commonwealth according to Callodyn and Sariel’s
persuasive powers, as long as he, Callodyn, made it clear they always had the
options of choice available to them, and not to pressure them into remaining
citizens of the grand goal of Commonwealth glory then he, God, would not object
to their work.
So Callodyn had been thinking it over and thinking, in the end,
wether he wanted to team up with the Israelite agenda or the British
agenda. And then, thinking laterally,
realized that in the end with the Noahide teaching Noah himself had taught, as
the foundational core beliefs within the Israelite Torah that had slowly been
developing amongst the Realm’s Israelite community, that he could partially
link himself to Israel as a committed Noahide, but in the same way remain part
of the British dominion, thereby hopefully satisfying both parties. For he had lost much of his grudge against
Michael, realizing the firstborn of the Seraphim was simply trying to be
responsible and not lord himself over his brethren. And because of that attitude which Michael
had constantly displayed, Callodyn felt better about linking himself with
Israel and their ways of life.
In the end Callodyn’s British pride saw no great purpose. Naturally, ho valued and cherished his
culture which he had adopted, and saw no reason to change from it. He liked the British way of life and it
suited him and his personality. But he
valued Israel and the other cultures contribution to his own life as well, and
you could not be the only voice in the world in the end. Others had to have their say and play their
part.
And so, resolving his difficulties, he decided to go a little
slower in his zeal to convert the Cherubim to remain totally committed members
of the British Commonwealth and, instead, try to maintain a spirit of
lawfulness and eternal commitment to God and let that, in the end, be the light
which would win the other angels to his dreams of glory, instead of any talk of
bravado and false glory which any other attitude, in the end, might lead to.
And resolving himself on that issue, and finding a new spirit of
peace in his heart, he headed off from the dormitory, down to the dinner hall,
and sitting down to Michael who was happily chatting with Elenniel, he felt
better about things and returned to a more normal way of thinking amongst the
angels of eternity.
The End
‘Fighting
for Glory’
God was thinking it
over, but indecisive. He had influence –
he knew that. But many of his children
had already committed to the English world.
But, no.
In the end he would not tolerate it.
God would be fair. He would
distribute the Cherubim evenly and without favour around the districts of
Zaphora and Terraphora. Ironically, the
English speaking world would possibly end up with the most anyway, so
persistent were they with promoting their culture. Naturally, he would make the contest fair,
and Israel would have to fight hard and smart to gain any such influence
against such furious competitors as the English, the Russian, the Spanish, the
Chinese, the Indians and so on – the real power players in terms of
population. But things would remain open
in the sense that the hardest competitors – those who fought to the utmost –
would gain the greatest glory. All
things were fair in love and war and the fight for glory, so God judged. And young Callodyn – well if he wanted the
glory – let him fight for it. It would
be the making of him one way or another.
It would definitely be that.
“Call to
Honour”
14,308
HY
It was a quiet time in
the Realm of Eternity. A quiet, gentle and peaceful time. Of course, very soon, there would come the big project.
Everyone was talking about it, but Saruviel was not concerned. Whatever role God called for him to partake
of in the creation of the Physical universe – well – he would undertake with
the seriousness his role as seventhborn was called to, despite the sometimes
ill repute such a role had become known for.
Today, though, perhaps
in unconscious anticipation of the work which lay ahead, in a spirit of
triviality, Saruviel was making paper flying objects. Folding a piece of paper in various ways, and
then flinging it through the air to watch it fly through space. Really, it was not the most exacting of
duties for one of his responsibilities, but he had reached a melancholy in his
life recently. Life went on. It simply did. And despite the heights of glory he felt
almost predestined to achieve, could he not simply forget about everything, be
a simple young angel of God, and make paper objects. And thinking that nobody was watching, which
was not true, he had spent the last half an hour doing as such.
God was watching. Subtley amused. ‘IS THIS GRAND SARUVIEL? REDUCED TO MAKING PAPER PLANES?’
The show went on for
another hour and then God, happily in his own little world, woke from his
slumber, summoned Michael to the throneroom of Zaphon, and gave him a
task. Michael nodded, receiving the
instruction and, when daring to ask why, actually receiving something of an
answer, which was not always the case.
Michael wrote out a letter on quality parchment, sent it of with a
courier, and went back to his duties.
When Saruviel received
the official Zaphon message, with the seal of God, he was curious. And reading it, finishing it, and gaining the
understanding, he could only ask ‘Why me?’
It became knowledge in
the Realm of Eternity after a while, that Saruviel and Krystabel were to be the
chosen Angels for which the firstborn humans would be specifically moulded
from. Of course, each and every angel of
eternity would partake of the creation of mankind, for God would speak to all
Angelicdom to make mankind in their image at the crucial time. But, for Saruviel, the
seventhborn, great honour. Great honour and prestige for being the chosen elders of humanity
in a sense, born from the sixth planned day, but being angels of rest.
And, as the year
finished, and the year of creation began, Saruviel was quietly humbled and
thankful to God for the call to honour he was to receive. For, despite his grievances, God had a great
and marvellous plan for his son Saruviel.
One in which God would clearly demonstrate his
affection and love for this beloved child of his.
The End