Chronicles of the

Children of Destiny

Raphael

By

Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

http://noahidebooks.angelfire.com

© 6175 SC

NOTE: Chapter 1 is from Morning Stars III

Prologue

Raphael. A Gifted Angel – Humble – Spiritual – Joyful. The Father of Glory had appointed Raphael third on the list of the Angels of Eternity – third in power, third in authority. His dark skin set a sombre tone for his tenureship which, to say the least, would not be uneventful. How Raphael would handle such challenges as Daniel the Seraphim, and the most passionate Talzudiel, well………… Well only time would tell.

PART ONE

Raphael, Angel of God

Chapter One

A grand old king, Gabriel, overseer of Zaphon, in reflection, felt to cut it short and not pursue what he had wanted. So therefore, exercising his wisdom, on the 1,000,000^th year of his reign, to the day, to the hour, just after the reign being complete, he left Zaphon, took a short flight to Mitraphon, handed Raphael the key to the executive toilet, and smiled at him. ‘Watch that Daniel. Just watch him. He ain’t a quitter.’ And Raphael just smiled.

* * * * *

‘Bugger.’ Said Daniel. ‘All that bloody effort, and off he goes. Off the bugger goes. Oh, Raphael. Holy bloody Raphael. Oh, kiss his arse why don’t we. What, I fuc*ing work my ass off for one million fuc*ing years, and the bastard chooses Raphael.’ And then Daniel proceeded to insult God somewhat, saying Job can fu*k himself, and Valandriel just stood there, shaking his head, saying ‘You dickhead. You total dickhead.’

Later on, Meludiel had come around to console her beloved, patting his head, telling him all would be well and not to worry so much. ‘That’s life, Danny boy. That’s life.’ But young Daniel would not be consoled. ‘It’s not fair,’ he winged. ‘It’s not fair.’

‘Who says life is fair,’ said Meludiel.

‘It’s supposed to be.’

‘Well look at it this way. Raph has worked hard as well. So give the guy a break.’

Daniel looked at her through teary eyes, after a while nodding, but then went back to sulking. Meludiel patted him on the head, kissed her beloved, and sat there, looking out the window, knowing now everything was right in the world.

* * * * *

Raphael, exiting the executive toilet, now knowing why Gabriel enjoyed his tenureship so much, sat at the large official desk on the executive level of Zaphon, feeling very impressed with himself. It was good. It was grand. It was great. He was happy, very happy, and thanked Jesus his best friend for all the prayers on his behalf for his promotion to this position. And now Raphael, ever so happy, looking out the window, practically ignored Cindradel who came in, holding a package, placing it on his desk carefully, and exiting. She buzzed him a few moments later, said there was a package on his desk, and told him to stay calm about it. Nothing could get to him, though, and opening the package, he laughed. ‘’The Prophecies of Daniel, Seraphim of Eternity.’’ Now what was going on here, he wondered to himself? He looked at the scroll – it was just one page, and the prophecy of the four beasts by the looks of it. But looking at it a section was highlighted. And looking at the highlighted section, it was of the second beast, the Bear. And then, instantly alarmed, realizing that whatever Daniel had been on about, Gabriel’s reign had come and gone and now, here he was, Raphael, having replaced him, sitting on the throne of Zaphon. And here it was, a scroll of Daniel, with a second beast being highlighted. Perhaps it was a practical joke, but Raphael would get to the bottom of this escapade. He would find out just who exactly sent this package, and he would have words. Strong words indeed.

* * * * *

‘So he won’t trace us, Dan? You are sure of that?’

‘Look, Val. The prophecy is ancient, now. He’ll suspect us as well, but he will have a million people in his head who he could think ‘might’ have done it. Just deny everything and watch. We have number two now. My guess is, the way they are going, Raph will choose Uriel to replace him, and we strike Uriel with the Leopard.’

‘And number four?’

‘If Uriel chooses Raguel, in the end, then we have our man. But Uriel might think differently by then. There is a lot to consider. So we wait and see. But Michael and Gabriel have established a pattern, and you know how the big seven think. They like to be consistent. Believe me, they like to be consistent.’

‘We’ll see,’ said Valandriel. ‘We’ll see.’

‘Patience, Kemosabe. Patience.’

‘Whatever.’

* * * * *

‘Talzudiel, Talzudiel, Talzudiel. So you think you can challenge the supreme power of Azrael, do you? 4 hours? You really expect me to believe you can conquer Mt Zadar, wings tied, in 4 solitary hours.’

‘Possibly under, oh supreme lord of pride.’

Azrael thought on responding to the Columbian lord’s sledge, but let it pass. ‘Alright, I will bother to come and witness the event. But you will be a laughingstock of the Seraphim if you fail to live up to your claims.’

‘I’ll make it. And I’ll have your record to, Azo.’

The Scotsman looked at the trained physique of the 43^rd of the Male Seraphim of Eternity and considered it. He really was looking very fit and perhaps, if he had been training for a while, might just make a go of it. But he would never take Azrael’s record. Nobody possibly could. He had spent the second half of the second Arc constantly working on improving his climbing time of Mt Zadar and, at just under 6 hours, he felt he had a record that would last forever practically. But along comes the Prince of Talzudiphora, 43^rd disc of the Realm of Eternity, claiming he could take the record in a time of 4 hours, or even less. Really, it was a bold bloody claim, and Azrael admired his brother’s challenge, if not thinking him the fool for making such an outrageous boast.

‘So when is the date?’

‘You set it, Azrael. Any time, day or night. I will be ready.’

Azrael considered that. ‘Alright then, how about 3 weeks from today, Galadon afternoon. We’ll get the Melladon celebration out of the way and you can have a big party before you fail dismally. How about that.’

‘Suits me fine, Azrael. Suits me fine.’

‘Oh, and good luck lad. I think you’ll bloody need it.’

‘No luck. Just skill. And I have been training. Believe me I have been training.’

‘We’ll see. We’ll see.’

Talzudiel finished his ale, nodded at his brother and left the pub. Watching him go Azrael didn’t seriously think his record was in any jeopardy, but you could never tell with an angel like Talzudiel. You could never tell with someone from the Columbian disc of Talzudiphora, who were so deadly at the Realm soccer championships these days.

* * * * *

Raphael sat with Nimorel, his twin, in the executive lounge reserved for the Overseer and his company, in the tower of Zaphon. It had been a happy and prosperous week for the 3^rd Seraphim male of eternity. A number of early introductory engagements with many of the official business councils, various charity organisations, other good works organisations, and leaders from religious communities and their entourages making themselves known to him. This, apparently, in much of Gabriel’s imparted wisdom to himself was the standard everyday stuff of the life of the overseer of the Realm of Eternity. The core business of the role.

‘What would you like to eat?’ he asked her politely.

‘Oh, anything looks good,’ she said, putting down the menu. ‘I am sure the cooks of Zaphon’s most illustrious member know what they are doing.’

‘Undoubtedly,’ he responded.

They sat in silence for a while, and then Raphael turned to his twin. ‘We have talked about this for a long time, Nim. Our success here in Zaphon. The eventual probable appointment of myself to the position after Gabriel’s glory ending. We made so many plans, so many I have forgotten, some still with me.’

She nodded.

‘It’s a time,’ he continued, ‘to perhaps bring a change of pace to the life of the Realm of Eternity. There has been so much hustle and bustle in the last couple of million years, as Michael and Gabriel have both exerted their influences, getting so many new things accomplished.’

‘And you don’t desire that?’ she queried him.

‘Yes. Yes I do desire accomplishments. But without the fanfare. Without the fuss. I think I understand, now, that this life of Eternity will inevitably march forward, as it has always done. And that our life will go on after this – that there will be others in this role. I know, truly, that my brother Uriel has his own mind, as does Raguel and Phanuel and especially Saruviel, and so on. And that, in each their turn, they will bring their own touch, their own styles, their own wisdom to the role of Eternity’s overseer.’

She listened with interest at his discourse.

‘But for my own way, for my own period in this magnificent role, I desire a calm and steady pace – a period of true stability – in which accomplishment is not so much the name of the game, but rather stable consolidation and consistency.’

‘Then it will be as you say,’ responded Nimorel.

‘Let us hope so,’ he replied shortly.

Their dinner arrived, roast lamb with vegetables and gravy, and as they fed themselves, Raphael made private acknowledgements of his statements to Nimorel, affirming again to himself the fundamental philosophy of life and rulership he intended to bring upon the lives of the Realm of Eternity during his, hopefully, stable and wise reign as the appointed overseer of God.

* * * * *

Shamus Warne looked out the window of the train as it travelled, steadily, on the way from the station at the airport to the cricket hotel. Lizzy Hurly, his cherubim twin, sat opposite him, reading a woman’s magazine as was her wont, lost in her own world, not worried about the upcoming match and discussions. The two of them were in ‘Cricketalia’, as it was called, technically a nation on the 43^rd disc of Talzudiphora. A while ago, in the tenure of Gabriel as overseer of the Realm of Eternity, the Columbian nations of Talzudiphora, under Talzudiel’s guidance, started progressing further and further in competency at the game of cricket, and established the nation of ‘Cricketalia’ on the 43^rd disc to be totally devoted to the game. The main theme of Cricketalia, as in the constitution of the nation, was simply that – cricket. So much so had the passion become obvious to all and sundry, tha the IROECB (International Realm of Eternity Cricket Board) moved its base of operations to Cricketalia. And now, for Shamus Warne, heavily involved in the game of cricket, the future of cricket in the realm, and the possibility of even further cricket based nations developing even more son on the outer discs as time went by seemed a greater and greater reality. The traditional nations, such as Australia and England, as well as Pakistan and India, were all terribly competitive still and while Cricketalia itself had a developing nation at the game, it was more seen as a lynch pin for specific newer nations based solely on the game of cricket, with Cricketalia something of a foundation stone. And then the bug had caught on and ‘Footballia’ on the 55^th Greek disc of Ulantriphora had emerged, and suddenly a spate of lesser sporting nations the further outwards you went.

The capital city of Cricketalia was named in honour of the greatest of them all and suitably named ‘Bradman’ which made every passionate Aussie quite proud. But many legends were honoured with towns and cities named after them, even the district of Warne in southern Bradman had eventuated, and wherever you went, whatever job you had, cricket was the one word on everyone lips.

Shamus looked down at his speech. He was to speak at the 70^th millennial Grand Cricketalia One Day International Cup of Glory – a long awaited event – and he wanted his speech to be perfect. He had spoken to Lizzy a number of times about his words, which concentrated on a major theme – the power of tradition in the game of cricket, and how continuity of the sport brought and continued to bring countless joy and personal satisfaction to countless souls. She was, apparently, suitably impressed. But you could never tell with Lizzy.

Funnily enough, Sariel would be present. And the history between Lizzy and Sariel the Seraphim was well known to many, going way back to earthly days. But that didn’t bother Shamus and, going over his speech carefully, glancing at the outside familiar city sights, he knew they were nearing their destination, and the ongoing pleasure of fame, fortune and cricketing legend status pushed him yet on again to continue his majestic life, as he saw it, happy enough with how things, for the time, were faring.

* * * * *

Winoniel sat in the cold wind, covered in blankets, but not feeling any the warmer. Her twin, Talzudiel, was warming up, going through his stretching exercises, the crowd gathered, including Azrael and Cosadriel, carefully watching him.

‘Does he have a chance?” Cosadriel asked Az.

‘Negative,’ responded the serious looking Azrael, suddenly concerned that the extremely fit looking Talzudiel may indeed have just that – a chance.

Meludiel sat next to Winoniel, as did Nimorel, and Elenniel had been consoling Winoniel all morning about her twin’s pride.

‘But, that is often what men are simply like, Winny,’ she continued from their ongoing debate. ‘They ARE based on pride. It is the core motivator which gets them up in the morning – putting their brothers in check. Without these ambitions they drift off into mediocrity, without any clear focus.’

‘But a sensible angel knows the limits of reason. A sensible angel is not preoccupied with putting everyone else in their place,’ responded Winoniel, who wouldn’t be won to the argument.

‘Even Ambriel,’ started Meludiel, ‘competes in his own way. Perhaps only in the ways of love, but in such things, I might hate to say it..’ she left off speaking.

‘What?’ asked Nimorel.

‘But in such things even Ambriel has his own pride,’ finished Meludiel. ‘The king of love, with none greater. Oh, he won’t go on about it, but I sense it in his attitude, in the things he says. He will be the number one angel of the graces and mercies of God, for who else possibly could be?’

‘I don’t think I mind that in him, though Mel,’ responded Winoniel. ‘God knows it’s a better attitude then my own twins.’

‘They are only being boys,’ responded Nimorel. ‘It is just what they are like. Boys will be boys, as they say. My twin, Raphael, reminds me constantly that we are subject to the frailties which God made us all with and, rather than criticizing so much, we should celebrate in a spirit of charity and love the good things we find in each other, even when those things rear their ugly heads. Like today,’ she said, looking at the boys discussing Talzudiel’s chances, and the other women nodded.

Aquariel, standing next to Gabriel, her hands in warmers for the cold, looked concerned. ‘You don’t think he will injure himself, do you Gab? I mean, he will be going so quickly if he is to do it in the time he boasted of.’

Gabriel said nothing, but just stared at Talzudiel. Michael, standing next to Gabriel spoke up.

‘I wouldn’t worry so much, Aqua. Talzudiel is not stupid. Proud, yes. One of the most. But not stupid. I think he fully intends to get this record, and perhaps even knows how to. It really could be a spectacle.’

‘If the idiot doesn’t kill himself trying,’ she said, looking on.

Ambriel, standing next to Raphael, was not exactly worried about Talzudiel’s glory, but concerned, like Aquariel, that he might possibly injure himself. ‘I am sure an experienced angel like Talzudiel will not make a fool of us all. Don’t worry, brother. But I know that is your way.’

Ambriel looked on, still concerned for his brother, but took Raphael’s words to heart.

Satan of Infinity was standing with Cherubim Semyaza of Eternity, with Daniel the Serpahim of Eternity and Nadiel the Cherubim of Eternity, watching on.

‘The dickhead’s going to do it, then?’ queried Satan.

‘Your guess is as good as ours,’ responded Daniel.

Nadiel pumped her fist in the air, as Talzudiel was about to get started and yelled ‘Come on Tally boy. Show us what you are made of.’ A cheer went up from the group of angels then, and Talzudiel bowed.

‘Well, ladies and gentlemen,’ began Talzudiel. ‘We have come here today, not so much to witness the glory of Talzudiel, which is well enough known to all anyway, but the utter humiliation of the pride of the ‘Challenger’’ he said, looking directly at Azrael, who waved back at him.

‘Come on, you South American peacock,’ yelled Azrael. ‘Time to put us all out of our misery. Your obvious failure impending will brighten up all our days.’

Talzudiel stared at him with dagger’s in his eyes, but continued unperturbed.

‘Anyway, records were meant to be broken. Such is life.’ He turned to the timekeeper, who was connected via walkie talky to another timekeeper on top of Mt Zadar.

‘I’m ready,’ said Talzudiel.

The crowd hushed somewhat, and as Talzudiel stood right next to the starting line of the traditional starting point for this challenge, some questioned wether, in reality, the record would indeed fall today.

‘Ready. Set. Go.’ And Talzudiel was off, running like the wind.

As they watched him go, Azrael noted how fluently he ran, like a leopard after its prey and grinned a little consoling himself. He seemed to know now, if he hadn’t done so already for sure. Talzudiel was in ‘Lethal’ phase. His record was as good as gone.

* * * * *

Later that night, after the celebrations over Talzudiel’s triumph had died down, Talzudiel, Azrael and Cosadriel were out the back of the bar at the foot of Mt Zadar, drinking, all slightly intoxicated.

‘You kicked arse,’ said Cosadriel to Talzudiel.

‘Yep,’ responded Talzudiel.

‘Scottish arse,’ continued Cosadriel, looking at Azrael, who didn’t respond.

‘Yep,’ responded Talzudiel.

‘But that aint exactly a challenge, is it?’ continued Cosadriel.

Again, Talzudiel smiled, and said ‘Yep.’

They all sipped their beers for a while, and then, finally, Azrael said ‘Bah, humbug,’ and the two others burst out in laughter.

* * * * *

It was perhaps a vain attempt at glory, yet again, but the ‘Prophecies of Daniel the Seraphim’ cropped up on some documentaries for a few years with the new overseer now in place. The common assumption, still, was that Michael or Gabriel was beast number one and that Gabriel or Raphael was now beast number two, and if Michael number 1 and Gabriel number 2, then Raphael was the third beast of the Prophecies. Opinions were divided. One thing was certain – the fourth was still to come.

Michael had a pretty good idea who was behind the scenes, promoting the prophecy yet again – Daniel and Valandriel. He had no real proof, and the Theophany said ‘Why are you asking me for?’, but he was not an idiot. Still, Raphael would go on unbothered by the prophecy, and then likely Uriel, and Raguel, and Phanuel and Saruviel, and so on. It would die away, eventually, Michael assumed, and be considered nothing more than humour. An old joke of Daniel’s. Still, one day perhaps, he would sort Daniel out on the issue. One day, perhaps.

Gabriel, who had now retired from the position of overseer with the appointment of Raphael, was now summing up his new life post glory days. Oh, he soon found out that Terraphora disc beckoned to him to be its overseer, as the tradition was quite strong now that each disc have its own overseer, and that based on birth rank of Seraphim and then Cherubim. It was taken for granted, in fact. And, with that much being accepted, Gabriel drifted into Michael’s company a lot who, for the most part, was accepted as overseer of Zaphora, the central disc, and the two became, as strange as it might sound, even closer than ever. Daniel was a concern, though. Rumour had it that his and Valandriel’s ultimate goal was a power-sharing arrangement for some sort of ultimate rulership over the realm. Apparently, Valandriel as a ‘Prime Minister’ type of figure, and Daniel as a more symbolic ‘Arch-Regent’ type of figure, with each to rule from their respective discs. This was the goal of their glory, apparently, as both Michael and Gabriel learned from discussions with various of the Seraphim.

In the end Michael was not really sure if that bothered him. Daniel was an eccentric sort of character, Valandriel usually less so, but they were not quite like his traditional adversary, Saruviel. They would keep him concerned, but he didn’t really need to worry about morality aberrations for the most part, perhaps apart from some traditional liberal attitudes which were, in truth, a part of his traditional judaic faith anyway. But the very fact that they both sought positions of order, well, well that summed it up. They wanted to both keep a firm hand in the influence each maintained of peace and stability to the lives of the Realm of Eternity. Perhaps it wasn’t a bad thing at all in the end, and their attempts at maturity almost to be encouraged. Perhaps.

Michael and Gabriel formed a tag team of sorts, in these days, hanging with each other a lot, fielding genuine inquiries for their plans for the local discs. An Aussie politician wrote a good document on Australian and American national governance, describing the delineation between the traditional roles of Federal versus State governance, and an equating of this idea to the Realm of Eternity as a whole and the role of the Realm Overseer, to the individual discs and each disc Overseer, and the document was well received, discussed on television documentaries and current affairs and economic shows a fair bit and both Michael and Gabriel, one evening, watching a particular telecast, gained a fair impression of the potential their own roles could achieve in this respect. The glory of supreme power was gone from them, now, and each knew that, perhaps never to return. But, also, perhaps never needed to or never should. They had responsibilities enough with their own discs and, while it was still so much of an issue for each Seraphim to look forward to their impending overseersmanship, upon Michael and Gabriel the reality of their discs of responsibility hit home and, in private discussions, the Theophany a bit later hoped that they had gotten the point from what God was educating them on. They did so.

The initial years of Raphael’s responsibilities were, indeed, marked by a spirit of stability, constancy, and calmness. He imparted this very effectively, much in the way Sariel undertook such responsibilities in ancient of days. It was times of prosperity, growth and peace in general for the Realm of Eternity, and the other realms enjoyed similar good times. Life had its highs, and lows, but generally went about its business with its predictable and usual merry hum and strum, as each of the angels and children of God pursued their ongoing agendas, in general, of life, love and the pursuit of happiness.

* * * * *

Raphael stood on top of Zaphon tower. Here he was – overseer of the realm of eternity – ruler of God’s most glorious domain. Well, ok, perhaps that was a boast. In the end heaven above the realms of infinity and paradise and the other ones were quite significant as well, but he had to be biased? Didn’t he? Call it patriotism, which he usually disavowed out of pacifistic reasons, or perhaps just a particular hometown love for his own realm of antiquity, but the Realm of Eternity was glorious to the Archangel Raphael. It always had been.

Here he was – on top of the world – on top of the universe. The power to him was immense, but, naturally, with great power came great responsibility. That much was an unavoidable truth.

He looked skywards. Of all the angels to take to the sky that morning with him for his regular flight, Ambriel had shown and was still up there, slowly circling downwards, enjoying the glories of the new morning. Whatever was on his mind, Raphael hoped the best of enlightenments for his dear brother.

Here they all were. Still together. The angels of God. The children of Eternity. Life, now, to Raphael the Morning Star of God’s glory, was still intensely alive at times, still filled with wonder, still filled with love. Challenges still came along, and he concerns for Saruviel, of all people, who he often wondered wether he still had found the peace of mind and heart – his souls consolation – that he longed for all his brethren to find. Perhaps he had. Perhaps he would in time.

In all his long life, things had not yet changed that dramatically for the angel Raphael. He still did what he did from youth, minister to other angels in love, and the ancient teachings of Mitraphora still guided his heart, still drove his ways of mentoring and teaching others, still helped him declare his love for all who came into his life. But that was the heart that Raphael found within him – a heart which had steadily grown stronger with the passing of time, and grown to love more, to be more angelic – to be more godlike.

There were so many things he wanted to say to people, new people who came into his life, younger angels, and he did so, often. But the passion of life was not diminished in his heart, and he was still young in many ways, still alive, still full of the joys of God Almighty. He felt so good and so thankful to God for the peace he constantly found and, in praise, especially in these current glory days, he poured out his heart to God, expressed his deepest thanks and gratitude, and served him with a dedicated spirit, a whole spirit, completely in love with him and alive to the life of an angel of God – alive to the life of Raphael, third-born Archangel of the Seraphim Angels of Eternity, overseer to the Realm of God’s eternal Glory.

* * * * *

‘No, Jesus. Sure, I hear what you are saying about loyalty. I’m not stupid. You just can’t afford it.’

Jesus took a sip of punch. ‘Why not, Daniel? I do remember your commitment. My spirit was well aware of it at the time.

‘Certain people. David Rothchild, for example, disputing various things. My own interpretation, as well. God is saviour. Jesus Christ’s claims, well. Well, they were wrong. He wasn’t the saviour. He ISN’T the saviour. And that is the way it is.’

‘I understand,’ responded the man from Nazareth, and disappeared back into the party, one of Raphael’s get togethers for elder Seraphim and Cherubim.

Michael came over, noticing Jesus had left Daniel. ‘What did he want?’ asked the firstborn of the Seraphim.

‘An old issue,’ said Daniel, and said nothing more.

Michael looked at Daniel, into his heart, and said nothing more on the issue. He sought of knew, from the Holy Spirit telling his heart, what had transpired. An old issue. Really, an ancient one.

* * * * *

Talzudiel was in a good mood. A very good mood. But hey, who wouldn’t be. The world record holder for conquering Mt Zadar the quickest – an amazing effort. But now, that was just the beginning, and more records beckoned. Many more records, hopefully.

He was in his room in his private abode, not far from the central administrative section of Talzudiphora disc, in the city of Bogota Prime. Bogota Prime, or simply Bogota, was the capital city of Talzudiphora, on the eastern section of the disc. Of course, Talzudiphora was huge – but every disc of eternity from about Mitraphora and onwards outwards was like that – huge distances which only doubled every time. Getting around required special ultrasonic travelling jets, which knew no real maximum speed, but simply took about the same time to reach the speed needed. It was mostly about starting up, and slowing down, and that was about it in getting where you wanted to go in the realm of eternity.

Around his room were tributes to his glory – medallions, trophies, pendants, and other tributes to his glory from his long, long life as an Angel of God. Some were made of Eternya, the valuable ones, which would last indeed forever, for Eternya was special stuff designed to last forever regardless of attempted wear and tear upon the object. They were trinkets in many ways, simple things, and idols in another. Special mementoes of past glories, special little tributes to his efforts in being what and all he could be. And he was, indeed, proud of them. Perhaps something more, ultimately, beckoned beyond such glories as competition, but not for now in the life of Talzudiel. For now achieving real and credible records – records of great pride and glory – was the name of the game and, in doing as such, Talzudiel found the ecstasy in life which his own name in the angelic tongue truly meant.

He sat there, at his desk in his den, looked up at a picture of his twin Winoniel, wondered in the end if he was simply doing this to win her heart, as he often did question his motivations, but once again dismissed the idea. In the end Talzudiel assumed he was pursuing a form of wisdom – resume credentials. Records of achievement. Something he could display in his curriculum vitae to others to show, indeed, he was qualified on one of the more important aspects of life – achievement at an outstanding level.

Oh, he was a wealthy angel, and indeed it did seem he had already been eternally rewarded with the job as overseer of Talzudiphora, so why bother in the end? Really – why bother? But, perhaps it was just because of the rewards he had already been given in life, the position of true glory, that he should in fact bother to show himself worthy of the position. And perhaps, in doing the things he did, in achieving the records and the glories which Talzudiel, Seraphim angel of God, had achieved, he would never actually need to brook criticism of his esteemed position and be accepted, in general, by all those who worked beneath him and those in the realm who might, perchance, one day question his deserving or suitability for the role. Perhaps it was just that.

Or perhaps he just liked competing, and had some male pride, which is what he smiled to himself and concluded, before getting to his feet, going off to find Winoniel, and get some food into him.

Chapter Two

Raphael looked at the notice. ‘A Challenge. To my Seraphim brothers and sisters. The upcoming Kalphon Games. What are we all, really, made of? What lies in the competitive spirit of the Seraphim of Eternity? Will Azrael triumph? Will Ultra-Angel Michael reign supreme? Will that idiot Daniel fluke it again? Will Cosadriel fight the fight and kick arse? Or will I, Talzudiel, humble you all with my obvious skills and talents which exceed the best of your humble but poor aptitudes and attitudes? The Kalphon Games – a test of Seraphim Glory – be there or lose bragging rights for the next few centuries.’

Raphael didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one little bit. Talzudiel had exceeded himself, in arrogance. His Zadarian success had gone to his head. What, did he really think himself unbeatable? Did he really think his talents the greatest of all?

Raphael looked at the slip, thought long and hard about tearing it up and forgetting the dumbness of it, but inside his heart, a little voice, a little voice from his youth, which occasionally sat up and made a joke, or gave a taunt, or even, possibly, responded a bit to a challenge, said ‘What. Are you really such a wuss, now, Raph, that you can’t hack Tally having a go?’

Raphael took the paper, put it on his bookcase, went to his office wardrobe, put on his joggers and track suit, and came out to Cindradel. ‘Hold my calls, Cin. I have an arse to kick.’

Cindradel looked at him, slightly confused. ‘An arse to kick?’ she queried.

‘An arse to kick,’ responded Raphael resolutely.

‘Then you go kick your arse,’ said Cindradel, smiling. And, encouraged, Raphael started off, making for the elevator, doing rocky fists in the air, ready to do the run of his life, ready to kick some arse. Some South American Seraphim Arse.

* * * * *