Morning Stars Chapters 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 & 10

[The Way of the Eternal Dove]

Chapter Five - Joy

 

Joy.  Pure joy.  That is what he felt.  There were of course other things in life that gave his heart a similar feeling.  The friendships that he had, and the gatherings that took place.  But they were different.  A different type of joy.  And as Raphael glided through the upper regions of the realm of eternity, the early morning light bathing him in glory, his heart sang for joy at the simple pleasure of flying.  The simple joy of gliding through the skies unabated.  Up here he had no cares, no worries.  His responsibilities lay earthbound, far below him.  Up here he could forget about things for a while, and simply soar through the skies.  Soar through eternity.  Father, he felt, had been very wise when he had given the angels wings.  They had proven useful additions to the arms and the legs he had provided for them.  Of course, everywhere in the realm could be reached by foot, if you were prepared to be patient.  But the wings made getting around so much easier.  They also afforded him the opportunity to escape from things for a while.  To take to the heavens, all cares forgotten.

 

Eventually he would have to come down.  He could not fly forever, although part of him perhaps desired to.  But no, he had work to do.  The everyday duties that were Raphael’s responsibility to attend to.  They would begin shortly, occupying his day.  But for now he could fly.  For now he could soar through the heavens, enjoying the gift of wings his Father had blessed him with.

 

From the height that Raphael was at, he could see nearly the whole realm.  Zaphon lay beneath him, just to the south a little.  Golden Lake to the west stood out, the stark blue water contrasting with the greenery around it.  He could even just make out Dalnaphon to the north, the small keep that stood right at the edge of the rim.  As he soared he thought of his realm, the realm he had known from childhood.  He had flown over just about every part of it, especially in his younger days, when he had done much exploring.  He was used to it now.  He knew it.  Knew virtually every little nook and cranny.  But now things were about to change - to change a great deal.

 

Over the past few days, ever since hearing the announcement that his Father was to enlarge the realm, Raphael had been thinking about just what to make of the news.  Certainly, at first it had been a surprise.  He, like many of his brethren, had generally assumed that their Father had finished with his creating.  That they, the Seraphim, were his children, and that the realm of eternity was their home.  That both works were Father’s precious creation, and that his creative works had come to an end.  But they were wrong to have made such an assumption.  And while it had indeed been a surprise at first, as time had passed and Raphael had gotten used to the idea, he had started to consider the possibilities of what such a change might bring.

 

New brothers and sisters, of course.  That was what most of the brethren had been talking about.  But along with that, the realm was to be enlarged.  And from what Davriel had said, by no small amount.  That was something that had stirred Raphael’s thoughts.  Something that, in a way, excited him.  The thought of a new land to explore, a new realm to fly over and to walk through, was something that he could now honestly say that he looked forward to.  While he perhaps shared some of the doubts that certain of his brethren had expressed, doubts as to the need of such a new creation, they were starting to be overshadowed by the realities of what such a change would bring.

 

New life.  That is what it came down to for Raphael.  Father’s new work would bring new life.  New changes.  And more than that.  New challenges.  Challenges to build new places, to make new homes, and to make new friends - to make new beginnings.  But even above all of those things, there was one thing it certainly meant - new responsibilities.  New and greater responsibilities.

 

As Raphael soared along through the heights of eternity, he wondered to himself just what those new responsibilities might entail.  With new brethren and such a great increase in the size of the realm, it was inevitable that many of his brothers and sisters workload would grow.  He thought of Michael.  His was already, or so Raphael imagined, a difficult and challenging job.  As firstborn he oversaw the general running of Zaphon and the realm, something which occupied his time completely.  What would happen to him now?  Would he now be given the responsibility to watch over the new enlarged realm?  Although he greatly respected his older brother’s abilities, abilities that Raphael had seen in action on many occasions, he wondered to himself how even Michael would handle such an immense task.  Would he know how to watch over such a large number, to be able to handle such a large realm?   Even the thought of it was something that daunted Raphael.  In comparison, his own responsibilities seemed perhaps somewhat minor - maybe not minor, exactly, but certainly less overwhelming.

 

Raphael was a ministering angel.  His main duty was to organise the various fellowships that the angels took part in around the realm and to see to their spiritual welfare.  Certainly, it was work that challenged Raphael, but it was rewarding as well.  He gained satisfaction in knowing that his brethren were contented in their lives.  That they were happy and at peace with themselves, and that they were socialising well with their fellow brethren.  It was work that Raphael felt suited to.  He knew what he had to do, and he knew how to do it.  And while it was not as great a responsibility as Michael’s, Raphael found satisfaction in it. 

 

There were, of course, some similarities between his and Michael’s work.  Raphael likewise had responsibility over a number of his brethren.  Four of the Seraphim worked closely with Raphael, accountable directly to him.  Loquiel, his best friend, and close personal assistant.  Raphael sometimes felt that he would be lost without him.  Yasminael, a tireless worker.  She gave the best to her job, something hat Raphael admired about her.  Ambriel, of course.  A gentle fellow, but so full of hope and peace.  A light to Raphael and a constant source of encouragement.  And lastly, Shemrael.  Shemrael, who seemed to always know the right thing to do, the right words to say.  They were Raphael’s assistants.  Co-workers in bringing peace and harmony to the realm of eternity.  They knew their job, knew what they had to do.  But now that was likely to change.  With so many new brethren to come into being, what would God now ask of him.  ‘Time will only tell,’ Raphael thought to himself.

 

Looking at the sky, morning was starting to advance.  Breakfast would be upon him very shortly, and the day’s duties beckoned.  His morning flight had come to an end.  As he started circling downwards, Raphael’s thoughts turned to the day in front of him.  That morning he was to visit with Phindwel, the realm’s chief baker.  The first day of the new month was only a few days away and it was always marked by an evening celebration to which many of the brethren attended.  ‘Melladon’, it was known as, after the name of the first day of the month.  It was a regular event but, as always, Raphael would try to add colour to such gatherings. He had been speaking with Phindwel about the baking of new pastries and breads.  Phindwel was creative in his ideas for new recipes, and Raphael sought such ideas for the next gathering.  That morning he was to inspect some of Phindwel’s latest works to find the most appropriate.  It was something he would probably enjoy, looking forward to the new delicacies he would try.  After that he was to visit with a number of angels to see how they were going with their lives in general.  He would ask how they were handling their duties, how happy they were with things, and if they had any problems in their lives that they would like to discuss.  In essence it was that work, the social welfare of his brethren, that generally occupied most of his time.  And after that, lunch, and the afternoon’s work.  A full day, as usual.

 

Once grounded at the western entrance to the keep, Raphael made his way to the dining hall.  The morning’s activity had been exhilarating, but he was now hungry and in need of sustenance.  The hall was unusually quiet when he came in.  Perhaps he had ended his flight too soon, arriving at breakfast early, before Zaphon’s other residents had made their way down from the dorms.  Still, the trolleys of toast and cereals at the side of the halls were full, indicating he had not come at an inappropriate time.  However, Shannel and the other kitchen staff were early risers, very faithful to ensuring that the keep’s residents were fed when they needed to be, even if at their own inconvenience.

 

Raphael took a bowl and filled it with some cereal, adding melit water to it.  There was either dwarrow or celnoka juice to choose from that morning, Raphael opting for the latter.  Some toast also, he was quite hungry.  His tray full, he looked around the hall.  There were a few other early starters.  Alindrel by the looks of it, in conversation with Nimorel.  They looked content, Raphael deciding not to interfere with their conversation.  In the corner of the room, though, he spied a solitary angel eating through their morning meal.  His or her back was turned to Raphael so he was unsure as to whom it was.  Whoever it was, though, perhaps they would not mind Raphael’s company for breakfast. 

 

As he approached he could tell from the dress that it was a male Seraphim.  ‘Excuse me brother,’ aid Raphael.  ‘Would you mind some company this morning?’  The angel looked up at him.  It was Azrael.  ‘No, I guess not,’ he replied.  Raphael took a seat opposite him.

 

As he made his way through his cereal, Raphael was silently pleased at the company he had found himself with that morning.  Azrael did not visit Zaphon very often.  He was one of the few angels who kept largely to himself, mixing very little with his fellow brethren.  From what Raphael had observed of him, he always attended assembly and the occasional new month celebration, but that was about it in terms of social activity.  He generally kept to his own affairs, usually residing at Senersphon, a small keep to the northeast of Zaphon.  It was a behaviour that perplexed Raphael.  Raphael was a social creature.  He enjoyed the company of his brethren a great deal.  He liked to ask after them and to see that all was well.  It, in a way, puzzled him that someone else could be so, well, different in nature.  Raphael doubted very strongly that he could live the kind of lifestyle that Azrael lived.  He needed to mix with others, to have that social contact.  Yet, it seemed, Azrael did not.  And it was something that aroused Raphael’s curiosity.  Something that he would not mind an explanation for.  If not that, then at least an understanding.

 

Pausing from his cereal, Raphael took a sip of celnoka juice, and looked across at his breakfast partner.  ‘So, Azrael.  I haven’t seen you in a while.  Are things well with you?’  Azrael finished the mouthful of toast he was chewing on before replying.  ‘Yes.  Yes, I am well.  And you?’  ‘I’m doing fine,’ replied Raphael.  He took another sip of celnoka juice.  ‘It looks like we have arrived a tad early this morning,’ said Raphael looking around.  ‘I guess the others will be down shortly.’  ‘I guess,’ Azrael replied, and took another bite of toast.  The conversation paused a short while, as the two continued with their meal.  ‘Well, I certainly have a busy day in front of me,’ said Raphael.  ‘With such an early start, you must have quite a day planned as well.’  Azrael briefly looked straight at him, and then returned to his meal.  ‘No, not really,’ said Azrael, chewing on his toast.  ‘Oh,’ replied Raphael.  Silence resumed.  Azrael continued chewing on his toast, seemingly uninterested in further conversation. 

 

‘This is going nowhere,’ Raphael thought to himself.  ‘Come on Raph, try harder,’ he urged himself.  ‘Well, my day should prove interesting’ he said.   ‘I am visiting with Phindwel later this morning. He has some new recipes that he has prepared for next months Melladon celebration.  I am fortunate enough to be allowed to taste them before the celebration.’  ‘Mmm,’ nodded Azrael, not appearing to give great interest.  ‘And after that, a busy day as usual,’ continued Raphael unperturbed.  Azrael finished off his toast and took a mouthful from the glass in front of him.  That done he pulled his chair away from the table and got to his feet.  ‘I hope you enjoy your day Raphael.  If you will excuse me, though, I have things to do elsewhere.’

 

Unwilling to concede defeat, Raphael persisted.  ‘Sure.  But if that can wait a little, I have something that I would like to ask you.’  Azrael shrugged and sat back down.  ‘Yes,’ he said, looking straight at him.  ‘It’s something that I’m curious about Azrael,’ began Raphael cautiously.  ‘You seem to spend most of your time alone in Senersphon.’  Raphael paused, waiting for a reply.  Azrael looked at him, mildly bewildered at the statement.  ‘Yes, your point?’  he said.  ‘Well, I was just wondering,’ said Raphael.  ‘I was just wondering why you spend so much of your time on your own.  You don’t seem to fellowship very much and it’s just something that I don’t think I really understand.  Do you not like the company of your brethren?’  Azrael sat looking at him for some time, apparently thinking on the question, although Raphael could not say for sure though. 

 

Eventually he spoke.  ‘Oh.  Ummm.  Well.’  Raphael smiled.  Azrael was lost for words - he had reached him.  ‘I, uh, don’t really know what to say,’  said Azrael.  ‘I guess I’ve never really thought about it very much.  Do you think I spend little time with the brethren?’ he asked, the honesty in his voice apparent.  Raphael smiled to himself.  He had an opportunity here, but caution was needed.  ‘Well, I am aware of your presence at assembly and some of the gatherings, but apart from that I couldn’t really say.  Perhaps, though, you can answer that question better than I.’  Azrael looked at him, and then reached down and picked up a crust of the toast that he had been eating.  This time he seemed to be genuinely thinking about his response.

 

‘Yes I, I attend assembly when it is called.  This is something that Father requires of us.  And I attend other events, at times. Melladon, and so on.’  Raphael nodded, encouraging him to continue.  ‘I do fellowship at those times.  But I suppose that what you are saying may be true.  I do spend a lot of my time on my own, I guess.  As you have said, I might not be in fellowship very much.’  He left off nibbling on the crust, and again looked straight at him.  ‘Do you think that’s a problem?’  Raphael thought carefully before responding.  ‘Well, no, I wouldn’t say that it’s a problem exactly.  It is your life and how you live it is up to your own judgment.  But I do find it curious that you do not seem to be overly interested in getting involved with your brethren.  If you don’t mind me asking, is there some reason behind the behaviour?’  Azrael looked at him and then looked down at his now empty breakfast tray.  ‘I don’t know Raphael.  Just the way I am, I suppose.  Now that I’ve thought about it I do like spending time on my own, I guess.  I think that I perhaps find peace in the solitude.  To be honest, it’s something that I don’t really find with the brethren.’  Raphael tilted his head at that comment.  Azrael, noting his concern continued quickly.  ‘Not that I don’t find peace with the brethren.  Not that at all.  It’s just - just different.  I enjoy my time on my own.  The quiet times give me time to think - and to just be at peace with myself.  Do you know what I mean?’  Raphael looked at him, thinking on what he had said.  ‘Yes, I understand the need to spend time along.  Just a short time ago I was taking my usual early morning flight.  Up there I find peace as well.  And it is something I do on my own - and prefer to do it on my own.’  Raphael paused, thinking carefully about how to  phrase what he was about to say.  ‘But it is not the way that I spend the majority of my time.  Certainly, I find peace in the solitude when I am up there.  But it is only something that I do for a short while.  I need the company of my brethren.  I need that fellowship, and I enjoy being with them.  Do you not have that need as well?  Azrael considered his response.  ‘Yes.  Yes, I need fellowship.  And I do, as I said.  I guess, maybe we’re just a little different Raphael.  You seem to enjoy the fellowship of the brethren - which I do as well - but perhaps just not as much, or maybe just not all the time.’  Raphael smiled.

 

 

‘Yes, perhaps Azrael.  Perhaps.’  Azrael looked down at his empty plate, then up at him.  ‘Anyway, is that what you wanted to know?  How I spend my time?’  Raphael looked directly at him.  ‘I was just - concerned, Azrael. I am your brother and I like to know how things are going with you.  I don’t think your behaviour is wrong or anything like that.  I just found it puzzling, that’s all.’  ‘Oh,’ said Azrael.  ‘Well, fair enough.  Look - perhaps I will make more of an effort to socialize in the future.  I’m happy enough with my life, but if you have concerns then perhaps I need to look at things a little.’  Raphael was happy with that response.  ‘Thanks Azrael.  Thanks for hearing what I had to say.  We are family, and it is important that we have time with each other - for many reasons.’  For the first time in the conversation Azrael smiled.  ‘Yes it is, I guess.  Look, I am going shortly.  But perhaps we could have lunch together today.  You could see that I’m not such a loner all the time.’  Raphael grinned.  ‘Yes, of course.  I look forward to it.’  Azrael nodded.  ‘Anyway, if you will excuse me, I must be going.  But see you at lunch.’  See you then,’ replied Raphael.  Azrael got to his feet and made his way out of the dining room, destination unknown.  Raphael watched him go and returned to his breakfast.

 

‘Good,’ he thought to himself.  ‘Very good.’  Azrael had been made aware of his behaviour, which Raphael felt was important.  ‘The first step,’ he though to himself.  And while he had already made a lunch appointment with Sariel, that could be put off.  Fellowship with Azrael was something that he viewed as more important at that moment.  Pleased with the outcome of the conversation, Raphael returned to his morning meal.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Amiel shrugged.  Really, she didn’t seem to care that much, but Matrel had concerns – deep concerns.  ‘I don’t think father will speak to you, brother.  I don’t think for your trivial complaints he will respond.  Remember he mainly only talks to Michael and Gabriel at the moment, and sometimes Davriel.  But you can try.  Perhaps he will say something.’  ‘Of course I have to try.  I don’t think he has really thought this through well enough.  We are his children – his firstborn children.  Surely we must be the centre of his heart forever – he can’t have more, it’s not right.’

‘But what if he had just stopped with Michael?  Or even the first 7 or 8 of the Angels.  What then?  You and I would never have been born.’

Matrel considered that point.  It wasn’t too bad a one and it stopped him for a moment, thinking about it.  ‘Yes, I suppose I see what you are saying.  We would never have been born if that had been enough for him.’

‘So why can’t he have more children now?  Perhaps he wants to?  And he is God so he can relate to everyone if he needs to.’

‘I guess,’ but he was still a little hesitant.

‘Come on, don’t worry so much about it.  Let’s go get a drink of coffee and forget about the whole thing.  You’ll probably feel better in the morning and have forgotten about it all.  You’ll see.’

Matrel, finally conceding, accompanied his sister to the kitchen and when they had finished off their coffees the worries of the new creation of their eternal father had slipped from his mind.  But only temporarily.  They would return, shortly.  And return with a vengeance.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

‘Really,’ said Matrel, in response to what Kantriel had said to him about Saruviel’s viewpoint on the new creation.  ‘The vanity of father, showing us how he can create and should thus be our Lord.’  They are pretty strong words for Saruviel.

‘In his defence he was tired, and it was late at night, and I don’t think he would say them now if you asked him.  But, yeh, he said that.  Says a hell of a lot of things at the moment which catch Daraqel and My ears.  As intense as he has ever been and very philosophical about it all.  Meludiel says too deep, really, and that he is drifting too far from the fellowship, but I think Saruviel knows were he is at.  Probably just a phase he is going through.’

But Matrel, while he had been listening to what Kantriel had been saying, had not really been paying that great an attention after those first words of Saruviel.  ‘The vanity of God?  Was that it then?  Was he right all along and that the new creation was really a bad idea?  This time he was certain – he would speak with God, demand his attention, and see just exactly why he was going to create again.  Matrel wanted answers, and he wouldn’t budge until he got them.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

‘NO MATREL.  SARUVIEL IS QUITE WRONG.  THE REASONS ARE SIMILAR AS TO WHY I BROUGHT THE SERAPHIM INTO BEING.  I HAVE NO HIDDEN AGENDAS AND MY LOVE FOR YOU WILL NOT DEPART.  DO NOT WORRY, DEAR CHILD.  DO NOT WORRY.’

God went silent after that, despite Matrel asking a number more questions but finally, leaving the throneroom of Zaphon, he made his way back to his dormitory, laid down on his bed and stared at the ceiling.  It was just like him and he knew Amiel would say the thing.  Just like him to be concerned, to show undue worries.  And he knew so often why his own Torah Seraphim Principles said ‘Do Not Worry’.  It was God’s eternal advice to his son, and unfortunately advice which he needed to be reminded of again and again.  But that was life, wasn’t it.  Full of all sorts of little, quirky ironies.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

‘Yes.  Yes, good move.’  The dark-haired Seraphim nodded at his friend’s words of encouragement.  Jontel, the opponent in the game of Katchular that seemed to be approaching its conclusion, echoed Raguel’s comments.  ‘Not a bad move, Uriel.  But you’ve left yourself open on the left side.  And if I do this?’  Jontel proceeded to move a blue marker forward, eliminating Uriel’s only red marker from the game.  Jontel smiled, pleased with the move that he had made.  Uriel, looking down at the board, grinned ever so slightly.  The sacrificial tactic had worked - Jontel had taken the bait.  ‘Good move,’ said Uriel, the tone in his voice hiding how pleased he actually was with it.  ‘However, if I do this.’  He moved his last remaining white marker, the movement of which had been freed up from his previous move, up the board, cornering Jontel’s black marker.  Jontel looked at the board for a while then looked up at Uriel.  ‘I really should have seen that coming, shouldn’t I?’  he said in a jovial, good-natured tone.  Uriel laughed a little.  ‘Yes, maybe,’ he said.  ‘Anyway, your response?’  Jontel smiled and return his focus to the board, stroking his chin as if in deep thought.

 

‘Alright then, how about this,’ Jontel moved his blue marker back, threatening Uriel’s white.  Uriel smiled to himself - he had him.  On the other side of the board he moved a green marker diagonally across, pinning Jontel’s blue marker as it protected the black.  Jontel looked at the board, his brow a wrinkle as he studied the latest move.  After a while he relaxed in his chair and looked across at Uriel.  ‘Well, my young friend, I think you may have me,’ he said smiling broadly.  ‘Maybe’ said Uriel, returning the smile.  ‘Anyway, it is your move.’  The older Seraphim smiled at that.  His younger brother was eager to win - something that he liked to see.  ‘Yes it I, isn’t it?’  He returned his focus to the board.  ‘Very well.  It looks like I’ll have to do this.’  He moved his last red market up, protecting the blue.  Without hesitation Uriel took the blue marker with his green marker.  Jontel likewise took Uriel’s green marker with his red one.  However the next move was the clincher.  As expected, Uriel took Jontel’s black marker with his white, entitling him to the bonus move.  Sensibly, he moved his white marker back out of trouble.  Jontel smiled.  ‘Oh well, he said, ‘Not very many options left, have I?’  Uriel looked down at the board, considering Jontel’s statement.  Jontel had only three markers left, a red and two orange, compared with Uriel’s five.  The result seemed inevitable.  ‘Mmm, maybe not,’ replied Uriel, quite honestly.

 

A few moments later Jontel’s last remaining marker was being threatened by one of Uriel’s.  He moved it out of trouble, but Uriel’s next move cornered him.  The game was over.  Jontel, conceding defeat, removed his marker from the board, a move allowable under the etiquette of the game with just one marker left.  Jontel looked over at Uriel, the expression on his face quite positive, seemingly unbothered by the defeat.  ‘Excellent, Uriel.  Excellent.  Very well played.  You seem to have improved since we’ve last had a game.’  ‘Thanks Jontel,’ replied Uriel blushing slightly, although pleased at Jontel’s comment.  ‘I have been working on some new moves recently.  Perhaps they helped me a little today.’  ‘I think they have certainly done that,’ said Jontel.  ‘Some of the moves you made today showed a genuine understanding of the deeper strategies involved in the game.  You are thinking ahead well - very well.  If I were you I would strongly consider playing Michael in a game.  On the form you displayed today I would say you would have a good chance of possibly defeating him.  Regardless, it would be a good learning experience for you.’  ‘Perhaps,’ said Uriel, although the doubt in his voice was noticeable.  ‘Michael is very good, though.  He thinks ahead in his gameplan so well.  Sometimes when you are playing him it’s like he sees your own attacking moves before you have even come up with them’  ‘Yes, I would agree with that,’ replied Jontel.  ‘A strong defender, Michael.  A very strong defender.  Probably why I haven’t beaten him in such a long time.’  Uriel nodded, empathising with his elder brother’s dilemma.  He well understood the difficulties in playing Michael.  He himself had beaten him on only rare occasions.  ‘Oh well, I guess I will have to plan out my games a little more,’ said Jontel, whose eyes had returned to the gaming mat.  Perhaps I can learn a thing or two from you, my young friend,’ he said as he studied the board, his mind going through some of the moves that had taken place during the match.

 

After a while he looked up at Uriel.  ‘Well, I have enjoyed our game Uriel.  It’s always a pleasure to play one of my older brothers.’  There was the slightest hint of a jibe in his last comment.  ‘Not that much older, Jontel’, Uriel  replied quickly, unwilling to let the dig go unanswered.  The younger Seraphim chuckled a little.  ‘Yes, I was forgetting.  Anyway, if you will excuse me, I do have a few things to do before dinner tonight.’  Yes of course,’ replied Uriel.  ‘It was good playing you - you always make me fight to win.’  Jontel nodded knowingly at that statement.  ‘Never give up Uriel - never give up.  If I have any lesson for you, it’s that.  Even if it looks like all the odds are against you, stay calm and think through things carefully.  You may be surprised at what you can do when challenged.’  Uriel thought on those words before replying.  ‘Thanks Jontel, I’ll try to remember that.’  Jontel smiled, appreciating his advice being received, and then stood to his feet.  ‘Anyway, Uriel, Raguel, it has been a good afternoon.  Hopefully I will see you later.  Perhaps at dinner this evening.’  ‘Sure,’ replied Uriel.  ‘See you later Jontel,’ said Raguel.  Jontel nodded at them and turned, making his way out of the gaming room.

 

Uriel sat for some time looking at the board, as if replaying the game in his thoughts.  He was quietly pleased with the victory that he had achieved that afternoon.  Jontel was one of the better players of Katchular.  In fact apart from Michael and the ever-improving Saruviel, Jontel was probably the best at the game.  Defeating him was no small achievement.  ‘He was right you know,’ said Raguel, who had quietly sat watching the game.  ‘You did play well.  The way you eliminated his black marker was very well thought out.’  ‘Thanks Rag,’ replied Uriel.  ‘The Red sacrifice is where I got him.  I was just about certain that he would take it.  Lucky that he did, though.  I might have been in trouble otherwise.’  ‘Mmm,’ nodded Raguel.  ‘I do think that you should follow his advice and try playing Michael.  I’m sure that if you play as well as you did today, you would have a good chance of beating him.’  Uriel smiled.  ‘Yes, that would be nice.  But no, too sone for that.  Too soon.  There are still a few ideas I would like to see in action first - to see how they pan out.  But after that, well maybe.’  I’ll look forward to it,’ said Raguel.  Uriel started collecting the various markers and placed them into the gamebox, Raguel helping him.

 

Reflecting on the way that he played, Uriel was happy with himself.  He had planned out the strategy with the red sacrifice for a fair while - it was nice to see it work.  And he had beaten Jontel, one of the better players at the game.  It was a victory that he was glad he had achieved - winning at something always encouraged him.  In some of the other events and games that the angels competed in Uriel usually did quite well.  It was perhaps something that was part of his nature.  He liked to compete and he liked winning, especially when he felt he had earned and deserved it.  When he did compete, he would drive himself with a determined effort, trying to overcome the opposition.  Part of his mindset was that if he honestly felt he could win at something then he would work extremely hard to try and achieve that.  It was not that he didn’t mind losing; it was not that at all.  He often lost at the various events that the brethren competed in, especially the athletic ones in which he was less skilled - he was more of a thinker and a strategist.

 

But whilst he would lose on occasions, there was something within him that always refused to concede defeat.  The way he viewed it was the loss simply meant that he had to improve.  That he needed to make changes in the way that he approached the event, or that he needed to pay attention to the area which was lacking and work hard to overcome the problem.  It was an approach that Uriel felt worked.  Certainly it was constantly challenging - his brethren, of course, would improve as well.  But that only seemed to spur Uriel on even harder, to put in even more effort to try and be better.

 

In terms of strategic thinking, Katchular was of course the game to play.  A fair number of the brethren actively played the game, many of them being very good at it.  Jontel, who he had just played, had actually devised the game.  He had originally invented it for fun - to be a minor pastime for the angels.  But it had proven so popular, that it had quickly gone beyond that, becoming a major game of strategy in which the angel’s challenged each other.  Its strength was perhaps in the excellent balance if offered in both offensive and defensive styles of play.  Yet it was also easy to learn and simple to play, while at the same time it could become extraordinarily complex, especially when the more experienced gamers were involved.

 

Uriel loved the game.  Playing it was one of his favourite pastimes, especially when playing a good opponent.  It meant that he would have to think and work hard for his victory - something that gave him great satisfaction.

 

With the markers packed away, Uriel rolled up the playing mat and took them both to the side of the small gaming hall, placing them on an upper shelf.  He looked over at Raguel, happy with the way the afternoon’s fortunes had favoured him.  ‘Look, most of the day is behind us and there is something that I would like to do before dinner, so I might call it quits if you don’t mind.’  ‘Sure,’ said Raguel.  ‘It was a good afternoon, though.  And I’m pleased that you were able to defeat Jontel - with the effort you have put in with studying the game I think you have earned it.’  Uriel smiled.  ‘Thanks Rag,’ he said, a little embarrassed at the praise.  ‘Anyway, are you staying at Zaphon tonight or returning to Helyphon?’  ‘Well, if you twist my arm, I will probably stay for dinner.  But after that I’ll have to go.  We’re doing some new work with alloys tomorrow and I want to get an early start.’  ‘Alloys?’ said Uriel curiously, the word unfamiliar to him  ‘That’s what Yaramiel calls them,’ replied Raguel.  ‘They are made by melting down two different metals and mixing them together.’  Uriel found that interesting.  ‘Why would you want to do that?’ he asked.  ‘To make a more useful metal.  Yaramiel has this theory that if you mix, for example, Tatanum with Grell, the resulting metal would bear the characteristics of both.  Like the way we mix colours for painting to produce a new colour.’  ‘Sounds interesting,’ said Uriel.  I wish you luck with it.’  ‘Thanks.  It will prove an interesting experiment, whatever the results.’  Raguel looked around the room.  ‘Well, I might stay here until dinner.  I think I’ll have a game of Keldo.  See how I go at it.’  ‘Sure,’ said Uriel.  ‘See you at dinner.’  Uriel waved him goodbye and left the room.

 

The game had taken much of the afternoon and dinner was approaching as Uriel made his way up to his dormitory.  Fortunately, he had finished all his daily duties that morning leaving the afternoon to himself.  As usual, he spent the time with Raguel, the two of them entertaining themselves as they saw fit.  Raguel was Uriel’s closest friend.  Naturally, he enjoyed the company of all his brethren, but it was with Raguel that he felt the most comfortable.  Uriel knew himself well enough to know that he had a very competitive nature compared with many of his brethren.  Raguel was the perfect foil for that, never letting Uriel’s competitive nature interfere with their friendship.  They rarely competed with each other, unless it was purely for fun, even then Raguel usually losing. Uriel often felt that Raguel did so deliberately, that he was quite happy to let Uriel win, valuing their strong friendship more than simply winning at a contest.  As a result, Uriel often did not put much effort in when he was playing or competing at something with Raguel.  He had thought about Raguel’s motives and agreed - their friendship was much more important, something to be valued far more greatly than any competitive victory.  Still, his determination to win had not been dampened, it coming to the fore when he was engaged in contest with one of his more competitive brothers or sisters.  It was something within him, something in his nature, and it was something that did not concede very easily.

 

His dormitory was located at the northern most end of the upper hallway of Zaphon keep.  There were 10 large dorms along each side of the upper hallway, each dorm capable of housing up to seven angels at one time.  The keep, of course, had been originally designed to house all  140 of the Seraphim, which in the early days it had done so.  As time had passed though, and other smaller keeps had been built, the number of Seraphim who actually resided at Zaphon had declined.  Now there were usually only 50 to 60 regular residents, the rest finding their home elsewhere.  Uriel preferred to remain at Zaphon.  It was his first home, the place he knew best and the place he was most comfortable with.  Of course he often stayed at many of the other keeps, especially at Helyphon with Raguel.  But they were really only holidays of a sort.  Zaphon was his home, and he found the most peace staying there.

 

Entering his dorm he made his way over to the wooden desk located along the far wall.  Sitting down he opened one of the drawers taking out some papyrus and a writing quill.   The reason he had left Raguel at the gaming hall is that he had wanted to work on one of his writings.  In his spare time when he was not with Raguel, Uriel would often write poems.   Poetry was popular amongst the angels, readings often being held at the Melladon celebrations, as well as at other times.

 

Uriel enjoyed writing poetry - it allowed him to express himself in a way that normal conversation didn’t always afford.  His poems would speak on a variety of subjects.  Some would be about God, praising him for his goodness.  Others about Zaphon and the realm that he lived in.  Others still about the fellowship of the brethren and the friendships that he had.  But whatever the subject, Uriel would try to write in a way that expressed his heart’s innermost feelings. 

 

Sincere - that is what Rachel had encouraged him to be.  She was the first of the seraphim to have written a poem, and she was the most admired.  Uriel often spoke with her, asking her how he could improve his poetry.  She had simply told him to remain honest and sincere and to let the poetry flow with feeling.  Perhaps at times Uriel took that advice a little too seriously, often examining his heart strictly to see if what he was writing was genuine.  Sharing his difficulties with Rachel, she had said that he should relax about things and let the words come in their own time.  For the ever-ambitious Uriel that had not been easy.  Still, he had remained committed and his poetry was improving, or so he felt.

 

Looking down at the unrolled papyrus, he read through the poem that he had nearly finished. It was not a long poem - only a dozen lines so far - but Uriel was pleased with it.  On Rachel’s advice he had taken his time in writing it -nearly a month had passed since he had begun - but it was nearing its completion.  He felt it needed only one more stanza.  After reading through it a couple of times inspiration came over him, and he suddenly knew how it should end.  When it was finished Uriel read through it again and smiled.  ‘Done,’ he said to himself.  The poem was finished and he liked what he had written.  ‘I wonder how it sounds,’ he said to himself, and began to speak the poem out loud.

 

Within my heart, my soul and mind

There is a truth that I do know

A truth of Father’s grand design

A truth I take wherever I go

 

Of this place we know, eternity

A place that shows his perfect will

It comes from Father’s deepest thoughts

Each tree and stone, each pond and hill

 

We are our Father’s perfect work

We come forth from his deepest heart

To fulfil his perfect plan

A plan that he made from the start

 

The truth I know is of my God

A truth that until all I tell

Our God he knows of everything

He knows us all, so very well.

 

 

After reading it out loud, Uriel smiled, pleased with himself.  While he felt that it might not be the best poem that he had written, he was very happy with it.  It was a true poem and it did reflect what he was trying to say.  ‘I wonder what Rachel and the others will think of it?’ he thought to himself. ‘I wonder if they will like it?’  He mused.   ‘Time will only tell, I guess.

 

Chapter Six – A Busy Week for Gabriel

 

It had been a busy week for Gabriel.  As he sat in the library of Zaphon studying through one of its scholarly works, his mind went over the events of the last few days.  Ever since the news had been given of his Father’s new creative endeavour, he had been sought out for questioning by a fair number of his brethren.  As Michael had requested, he and Davriel had remained available during the week, ever ready to answer any questions and hopefully to assuage any fears that their brethren had about the impending new creation.  Certainly, he had expected some sort of a reaction.  You could not give out the kind of news that Gabriel had given and expect nothing to come of it.  Still, that had not quite prepared him for the diverse number of queries and comments that many of his brethren had expressed.

 

The variety of opinions that his brethren shared on the subject had surprised him.  A number looked forward to it, excited at the prospect of new brethren and a larger realm to enjoy.  Ambriel particularly had taken the announcement very well, his joy at the news apparent to all.  Others were perhaps lukewarm in their opinion on the matter, simply stating that if that was Father’s will then so be it.  Others still, something which had surprised Gabriel the most, seemed almost opposed to the new work.  Just the previous afternoon Kantriel had come to him expressing severe doubts at the proposed new creation.  He had even queried Father’s motives in the new work, something that had shocked Gabriel a great deal.  Of course he had done his best to assure Kantriel that their Father’s reasons for the new work were beyond reproach.  And while that seemed to have appeased him somewhat, Gabriel could tell that he had left him unconvinced.  It was reactions like that which had even caused Gabriel to wonder at his Father’s reasoning.

 

Initially, he had been very much in favour of the new work.  He knew his God well enough to know that all plans that he made were given the greatest amount of forethought, and he had simply trusted that the new work was part of his grand design.  However, when he questioned his heart seriously on the subject, he was surprised to find that part of him shared the view of the silent majority - a view that simply accept it as God’s will without any overwhelming commitment to it either way.  Kantriel’s reaction had even caused him to question if it was really for the best.  Still, whatever the opinion of both his brethren and himself, the new work was to go ahead - that was a certainty - and Gabriel knew that he should be wholehearted about his Father’s latest intentions.

 

‘Gabriel, sorry to disturb you, but if you’re not too busy I could use your help for a little while.’  Gabriel looked up from the book that he was studying at the voice that had just spoken.  ‘Yes, certainly Davriel,’ he replied.  ‘How may I help?’  ‘Well, I wouldn’t bother you normally.  It’s just that Brindabel is not here today and I need some help moving one of the bookcases.’  ‘Oh, of course,’ replied Gabriel, standing to his feet.  ‘Thank you for this, Gabriel.  The bookcase is rather heavy and I wouldn’t want to try moving it on my own.  It’s over here.’  Davriel led the way across the floor of Zaphon’s library to a bookcase which had recently been emptied of the books and scrolls that it housed.  ‘I am doing a little rearranging today, as you can probably see,’ said Davriel.  ‘The library is starting to fill up and I need to make some changes to the way the bookcases are arranged to make room for the new one that I’m bringing in tomorrow.’  Gabriel looked around the library.  ‘We have so many books now, don’t we - and on such a variety of subjects.’  ‘Yes, we have,’ replied Davriel, the pride in his voice apparent.  He was Zaphon’s librarian, a job that he undertook well.  ‘We have actually just reached 2,000 articles for the first time.  It’s funny, it seemed like just only yesterday that we reached the 1,000 mark.  Still, our knowledge of this realm continues to grow and expand, and we of course need a place for all of that knowledge to be stored.’  ‘Yes we do, don’t we,’ agreed Gabriel.

 

Gabriel looked at the tall bookcase, wondering at its weight.  ‘So, where do you want it moved to?’  Davriel looked around the library, taking note of where the other bookcases were placed before answering  ‘I think if we move it about a cubit along the wall to the right that should be about perfect.  It leaves plenty of room for me to bring the other one in tomorrow.’  ‘Alright then,’ said Gabriel, assessing what needed to be done.  ‘If you Take that end and pull slowly, I’ll manoeuvre it from this end.’  Davriel responded to the request and they started working the bookcase along the wall.  Moments later it had reached where Davriel wanted it placed.  ‘Just here should be fine Gabriel.  Now, just a fraction more,’  Davriel nudged it a little, putting it into its resting place.  ‘Excellent.  That’s perfect.  Thank you Gabriel, that’s exactly where I want it.’  Gabriel smiled.  ‘No problems Davriel.  Do you need any help in putting the books and scrolls away?’  ‘Oh no, I can manage that.  Please go back to your studies.  And thanks again for the help.  You’ve been invaluable.’  Gabriel nodded and made his way back across the floor of the library to the desk which he had been seated at.

 

The library, of course, housed all the records that the angels had put together in the many years since the keep had originally been built.  Long before the building of Zaphon, God had instructed the angels in the making of papyrus from some of the plants that grew around the realm.  He had also explained how ink could be produced.  Along with the invention of an alphabet to express the language that they had instinctively spoken from birth, the first scrolls had been produced.  Those first scrolls had been very basic in nature, but as time had passed and knowledge had increased, more elaborate scrolls had come forth.  With the building of Zaphon, a room had been set aside for the storage of the scrolls.  Davriel, the record keeper of the Seraphim and the one who had been given responsibility to watch over the scrolls, called the room a library.

 

Since that time many more scrolls had been added with the latter addition of books, being a more recent invention.  Today the library was now viewed as one of the more important rooms within Zaphon keep.  Many angels spent a great deal of time studying the various manuscripts, both for understanding and, for what was a more recent phenomenon, the simple pleasure gained in reading.  The scope of things written about had also increased greatly.  There were always the more technical works - from the various catalogues of plant and mineral matters to be found around the realm, to the blueprint designs of the various keeps which had been built  However, in more recent years such things as musical scores and poetry had also found a home within the library.  It even contained a small number of works on the various clothing items that the angels were attired in.  It seemed that whatever subject could be written about and be found interesting would eventually find a home in the library of Zaphon.

 

Of course, above everything else, the library was home to the sacred books.  In the centre of the library a special stand housed what Father called the books of eternity.  They were the books that Father himself had produced, books that were held in reverence by the Seraphim.  The book of life, as Father had called it, was the most revered of all the books.  It was a very large scroll that had never been unrolled, its contents remaining a mystery to the angels.  There was great speculation amongst the angels as to what was contained in the scroll.  Some speculated that it contained the names of all the Seraphim.  Others that it contained the manner in which Father had brought them to life.  Yet, whatever its contents, all attempts to discover its secrets had remained unsuccessful.  Father had maintained that the scroll was never to be read, and since he had brought it forth it had remained on its shelf, a wonder to all.

 

Apart from the book of life, there was also the Torah of truth.  That work, of course, was the major portion of study that the Seraphim occupied themselves with each morning  Contained within the book were the fundamental precepts and maxims of life.  It was a book of teaching - a book that helped the mind to understand the purpose of existence, and helped to train the thoughts to undertake daily life.  It was also a book that apparently remained unfinished.  Father had told them that there would come a time when he would be adding to the book.  He had not told them what would be added or when, simply that it was a work in progress that was yet to be completed.  That puzzled the angels, who often queried what more could be added to it.

 

Apart from those two books, there was one other that occupied the stand - the book of Judgement.  It was a book that the angels were rarely permitted to read, if ever - and that was perhaps for a reason.  Everyone who read the book ended up confused afterwards.  It spoke in a language that, while they could understand the words, they could only guess at its meaning.

 

Davriel had told them that the writings contained within were a divine legal code - a code that mandated a way of life and the consequences for failing to follow that way.  That did not really make things any clearer for the angels who had only the vaguest understanding of the meaning of law.  Surprisingly, one angel, Raguel, was permitted to study the book, seemingly at his will.  This did not really help him to understand the book much better than his brethren, but over time he claimed that he had gained some sort of understanding of the logic of the book.  It was consistent within itself, he had maintained; yet any more details than that he had been somewhat reluctant to share.  He had simply told his brethren that they did not really need to know anything more than that, but that the book did have a purpose.

 

They were the books of eternity, the library of Zaphon’s most important possessions.  But they were not the books that Gabriel was currently occupied with.  Today he was reading through one of Cimbrel’s works - a treatise on the laws of mathematics.  The book was on geometry in particular - a branch of mathematics that dealt with lines, angles, shapes, surfaces and solids.  It was a very technical book.  Cimbrel was perhaps the Seraphim’s most gifted scholar, having spent many years investigating and uncovering the various laws that governed their realm.

 

Gabriel found the book fascinating.  Some of the more complex laws he had a little difficulty with, but they could be understood if one was prepared to be patient, and to give it a little thought.  Strangely enough, his Father had recommended that he read the work.  He had said that it would help his mind to think logically and to develop rational thought.  After having studied it for a few days, Gabriel was starting to understand what his Father had meant.  The laws the book proposed were internally consistent - they made sense.  And Gabriel sensed that over time, and with further study, the laws would indeed assist him in thinking logically and clearly.  Regardless, he was enjoying the book and was nearing its end.

 

‘Gabriel, sorry to bother you again, but I was wondering if you would like something to eat.  Lunch time is upon us.’  Gabriel looked up at Davriel.  ‘Lunch time?’  Well, yes.  I am hungry.’  ‘I have actually brought a tray of sandwiches up from the kitchen, so we can eat here if you like.’  Gabriel smiled.  ‘Certainly.’  ‘They’re over here,’  said Davriel.  Gabriel put down his book and followed Davriel to a table at the side of the room, which hosted a tray of sandwiches.  ‘I wasn’t sure what you would like, so I brought a bit of a selection.  There’s also celnoka juice.’  ‘Thank you Davriel.  Your hospitality is one of your better traits.’  Davriel smiled, and took a seat.

 

After having made his way through a chemnuka sandwich Davriel spoke up.  ‘Out of curiosity, what is the book you are reading today?’  Gabriel finished the mouthful he was chewing before replying.  ‘The principles of geometry.  One of Cimbrel’s works.’  ‘Ah, yes,’ replied Davriel.  The principles of geometry - I know it well.  Cimbrel expresses his theories very well in that book.  One of his better ones’.  ‘I guess,’ replied Gabriel.  ‘It is actually only the second of his works that I have read.  I’m usually too busy with my other responsibilities to give enough attention to study - something I should look at probably.’  Davriel nodded.  ‘Yes, I understand what you are saying.  Many of the brethren often tell me something similar.  Still, when you have the time I feel it is important to study the libraries various works.  They are our legacy in a way.’  ‘Mmm,’ nodded Gabriel in agreement.  ‘I suppose as the librarian you’ve read most of the books in here.’  ‘I’ve read them all Gabriel.’  ‘All of them?’ queried Gabriel, surprised at the comment.  ‘Well, yes.  It is my responsibility to watch over the library and I feel obliged to read through all new additions to it.  But I would probably do it anyway.  Knowledge is something that I esteem.  It is something that helps you to make good decisions - to be aware of all the intricacies of any given subject.  It is through knowledge that Father established our realm, after all.’  ‘Yes I guess it is,’ replied Gabriel.  ‘Through his knowledge and power he created everything.’  ‘Exactly,’ replied Davriel.  ‘Knowledge is so important - something to be valued.’  Davriel paused, taking a sip of Celnoka juice.

 

‘Anyway, how are you finding the book?’ asked Davriel.  ‘Challenging, certainly,’ replied Gabriel.  ‘I don’t think that I have an overly mathematical mind, which makes understanding the theories quite difficult.  Still, I’m working through it and it’s starting to make sense.’  ‘Yes, I know what you’re saying,’ replied Davriel.  ‘Cimbrel’s works are generally the most difficult to understand.  But rewarding as well.  When you grasp what he is saying it can be very satisfying.   Although not quite the same, studying his works is similar to Torah study.  It helps develop clear thinking and helps one to understand problems.’  Gabriel nodded.  ‘Yes, from what I have seen I would agree with that.  Regardless, it certainly makes you think.’  Davriel smiled knowingly.  ‘Yes it does.’  They continued with their sandwiches, finishing them off.

 

Taking a sip of celnoka juice, Gabriel looked over at Davriel.  ‘I’ve been thinking, Davriel.  With Father’s new work there are certainly going to be a lot of changes.  With so many new brethren your workload will likely increase greatly.’  Davriel nodded.  ‘Yes, I have been thinking about that myself.  If they are like us, which will apparently be the case, they will need to study as well.  And I am sure that after time many of them also will wish to make contributions to the library.’  ‘Mmm,’ nodded Gabriel.  ‘You and Brindabel will certainly have a challenge on your hands.’  ‘Probably.  But we will adapt.  The one I have concerns about though is Michael.  If he is to be given responsibility over the new enlarged realm he will certainly be stretched.  I know he handles his duties well now, but with such an increase I am sure he will be challenged.’  ‘I have no real concerns about Michael,’ replied Gabriel.  ‘He’s a natural leader.  He will rise to the challenge.’  ‘Mmm.  Yes, of course.  You are right.  I just hope that he’s prepared, that’s all.’ 

 

‘Anyway, I guess I should be getting back to work.  Those books and scrolls need putting back, and I have some cataloguing to do after that.’  Gabriel nodded.  ‘I think I’ll sit here for a while - finish off my juice.’  Davriel got to his feet, collected his lunch tray and departed.  Gabriel watched him leave and took another sip of juice.

 

It impressed Gabriel that Davriel was such a good student.  It was an example that he knew he should follow.  Still, his responsibilities did keep him quite busy, and Davriel was around books all day.  Perhaps that was an excuse, but it was rare that he had a great deal of free time.  His main responsibility was that of being Father’s chief messenger.  He communicated to his brethren the will of God in how the realm was to be run.  It was an important duty, one that Gabriel took seriously.  Apart from that, the rest of his time was occupied with the general roster work that the angels took part in.  The purpose of the roster was to ensure that all general duties were shared around so that each angel understood in some way the work of everyone else.  It ranged from kitchen duty and house cleaning, to work in the farming region or mines.  Most of the angels took part in roster work, some more than others. 

 

Over time, Gabriel had done many different tasks, each of them teaching him something new.  At the moment, though, he was relieved from roster duties.  As Michael had requested, he was to remain at Zaphon, available for any questions his brethren may have about the new creative work to be done.  He had felt it best to spend his time in the library.  That was where Davriel worked anyway, and it made it easy for him to be found.

 

Taking a last sip of celnoka juice, Gabriel stood to his feet and made his way back to the desk he was studying at.  He would likely finish the book on geometry that afternoon, however fully understanding it would take time.  But, it was a worthy investment, he felt.  ‘I am sure that I will benefit from it one day,’ he thought to himself as he took up the book and began reading.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Jerahmeel looked out over the blank expanse of the rim from the upper level of Dalnaphon keep.  ‘So, that’s where he is going to work, huh.’  The light haired Sariel looked up from the book he was reading at his friend. ‘Apparently so.’  Jerahmeel continued staring out at the emptiness.  After a while he moved away from the window returning to his seat next to Sariel.  ‘5,000,000 cubits.  It’s really amazing what Father intends doing, isn’t it.’  Sariel put down the book he was reading before responding.  ‘Well, yes, I guess,’ he said.  ‘I haven’t really thought about it very much, though.’  Jerahmeel looked aver at his friend, considering his statement.  ‘So, you don’t have much of an opinion about it, huh?  Sariel looked straight at him.  ‘As I said, I haven’t really thought about it much.’  Jerahmeel, sensing his brother’s disinterest, softened his approach.  “Well, fair enough.  It’s just that I feel it is fascinating, that’s all.  It’s not exactly something that happens every day.’  ‘No, I guess not,’ replied Sariel.  ‘Still, if that is what Father wants to do, then I guess we should get used to it.’ 

 

Jerahmeel could tell from his brother’s tone that he was not overjoyed at the new work to be done.  It didn’t surprise him a great deal.  A number of his brethren had expressed similar views, questioning the need for any further creation.  ‘Yes, if that is his will then it is something we should accept.’  Sariel nodded and returned to his book.  Jerahmeel picked up a glass of melit water from the table in front of him and took a sip.  Whilst many of his brethren seemed disinterested in the new work to be done, he was not one of them.  He, if anything, looked forward to it.  Oh, he liked the realm as it was.  It was his home and he was used to it.  But Father’s new work was something that simply excited him - an event he looked forward to.

 

‘It’s getting late, Sariel,’ Jerahmeel said, looking out the window at the darkening sky.  Sariel looked up from his book.  ‘Yes, I guess it is.  Are you staying here tonight or returning home?’  ‘Actually, I think I will return home.  I have things to do in Zaphon tomorrow morning.’  ‘Sure,’ replied Sariel.  ‘I’ll walk you down.’ 

 

Both the angels rose to their feet and made their way to the stairwell leading to the ground floor.  Once outside Jerahmeel turned to his friend.  ‘Well, it has been a good afternoon.  Thanks again for inviting me to dinner - your hospitality is always appreciated.’  Sariel smiled. ‘Thank you.  I’m glad you had a good time.’  Jerahmeel nodded farewell and started making his way down the garden path.  ‘I think I’ll walk for awhile,’ he spoke out loud as he neared the end of the path.  ‘Try walking along the stream just down further,’ shouted Sariel.’  I’ll do that,’ Jerahmeel replied, as he disappeared into the evening air.

 

He soon found the stream, and started walking along its edge.  The stream was a small tributary of the Sellawon river that ran down from the mountain ranges to the southeast of Dalnaphon.  It was a small stream that ran to the edge of the rim, circling down underneath it into the nether-regions of the realm.  Jerahmeel had walked along it a few times before, usually in company with Sariel.  As he walked along he thought on the afternoon he had just spent.  He did not spend a great deal of time with Sariel.  They were friends, but usually associated with other brethren.  Sariel now dwelt mainly at Dalnaphon, Jerahmeel a resident of Zaphon’s halls.  But they did have dinner together occasionally, catching up on how the other was faring.  It was not a strong friendship, but it was one that Jerahmeel valued. Sariel, he felt, was one of the more honest friends that he had.  He had a straightforward personality - he wouldn’t leave you wondering about his opinion on a subject.  It was something Jerahmeel appreciated about him.

 

After walking along the edge of the stream for a fair while, he came to the Sellawon.  The Sellawon was one of the three rivers that ran through the realm of eternity. It came down from the Dunarra ranges on the eastern side of the realm.  He and Sariel had occasionally rowed down the river in one of the canoes kept at Dalnaphon, something he had not done in a while though.  Dremderry trees could be found along the banks of the river, their low-hanging branches reaching down to the water.  It was an attractive river to walk along, especially in daylight.  Looking up at the sky night was practically upon him.  He had enjoyed his walk but I was getting late and he knew he should get home.  ‘Time to fly,’ he thought to himself.

As he flew southwards to Zaphon, he reflected on the simple life that he lived.  Father had placed few burdens upon him, unlike some of the rest of his brethren.  Michael, Gabriel and Raphael, to name a few; they had been given great responsibilities.  He was perhaps fortunate enough to have escaped such duties. He enjoyed his life, the simplicity of it.  He took part in the rostered work duties like many of his brethren and would contribute ideas when he felt he had something to say.  But apart from that, his Father had not asked that much of him.  As he neared Zaphon, he wondered if that would change with the new creation to take place. 

 

A small part of him hoped that it perhaps would.  Jerahmeel knew that he could do more than he did, and part of him wished to.  He knew he had talents, talents that he felt laid unused.  There was the occasional task that Michael gave him to do.  And whenever Jerahmeel was given such an opportunity he took it and always did his best.  He wanted to impress others, to let them know that he could do what was required of him. 

 

Yasminael, who he occasionally talked to about his life, had told him not to worry about such things.  ‘Opportunities will always come along Jerahmeel,’ she had told him.  ‘Trust in Father and be patient,’ she had advised.  She was right of course.  Opportunities would eventually come.  And it was with the new work that his Father had planned, that Jerahmeel hoped that new opportunities might eventuate.  As for what those new opportunities might be, ‘time will only tell,’ Jerahmeel thought to himself.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

After seeing his friend off, Sariel re-entered Dalnaphon keep and returned to the first floor.  He had enjoyed the afternoon spent with Jerahmeel.  He did not see him that often, but always valued his company.  He was a peaceful fellow, something that Sariel liked about him.  He spent a lot of his time on his own at Dalnaphon, and was used to the placid lifestyle  Perhaps too used to it, growing somewhat accustomed to little fellowship.  Raphael, of course, would visit him often. He told him many times that he should not spend so much time alone at Dalnaphon.  ‘You need to be around others, Sariel,’ he had occasionally rebuked him.  Sariel took Raphael’s advice seriously, and had put in more effort to attend some of the various events that took place.  In part, he had invited Jerahmeel to dinner that evening because of it.  It was not that Sariel didn’t enjoy company.  He was just a little choosy about the company he kept.  It was perhaps true what some had said about him - he was not the most joyful of souls.  Not that he was dull or uninteresting, or at least he hoped not.  He just did not have the same zeal for life that some of his brethren exhibited.  Yet, that was his nature, and it suited him fine.  He fellowshipped when he needed to, and lived out his life.  That was the way things were and, he imagined, the way things would likely stay.

 

Having lit the night candles Sariel looked around the room.  It was getting late and he was starting to feel tired.  ‘Perhaps one more chapter,’ he thought to himself, taking a seat on the embroidered lounge.  He was enjoying the book, one that Raphael had brought around when he had last visited him.  It was by Alindrel, a volume simply entitled ‘Reflections.’  It recorded Alindrel’s various thoughts on the life that the angels had lived in eternity.  It traced from Alindrel’s earliest memories up until recent times.  The eclectic nature of the work is what fascinated Sariel.  Alindrel had talked to many of the brethren before composing the work, and had brought all the various views into it.  She would write from both her perspective and that of her brethren, sometimes covering the same incident from a variety of viewpoints.  It certainly made entertaining reading and Sariel was nearing the end of the book.

 

The work had inspired Sariel, who had given some thought to writing himself.  He had made a few attempts previously, but had not persevered, other things in his life usually getting in the way.  However, having seen the type of work that could be written, he felt encouraged to try again.  He even had a title for a potential work, ‘Perspectives from the Rim.’  Sariel smiled at the title, but it did reflect where he was coming from.  Still, the book would probably remain unwritten.  He might get to it one day, but as to when, time would only tell.

 

Having finished the chapter, he put the book down and made his way to a side cupboard.  Taking a glass he filled it with some dwarrow juice and made his way into his bedroom.  He took off his day tunic placing it in a washing basket.  He considered a nightgown but decided against it.  When he was not entertaining guests at the keep he usually slept unclothed.  Lying on his bed he looked out at the dark night, reflecting on the past day.  Although he had showed disinterest to Jerahmeel on the subject, his mind thought on what he had said.  Father was indeed going to be creating again, and perhaps soon.  That would mean some changes for Sariel.  For a start, he would no longer be living on the edge of the rim.  ‘There goes the book title,’ he thought to himself sarcastically.  But that, of course, was only a minor change.  The main thing was really the new brethren.

 

It had been nearly three centuries since the last of the Seraphim, Davriel, had come into being.  Sariel had assumed, like many of his brethren that his Father’s creative works had come to an end then.  He had grown used to what he called his family.  He knew most of them in a personal way and had developed relationships that were understood.  How would that change now?  Davriel had not given an amount to the new brethren, but had said that their numbers would be vast.  That would mean new relationships for Sariel.  He would have to establish things all over again.  Still, it was Father’s will, and Sariel trusted that his God knew what he was doing.  ‘Changes are coming,’ he thought to himself, as he turned over in his bed, looking for sleep.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Arriving back at Zaphon, Jerahmeel made his way towards the kitchen.  The flight had left him thirsty, and he felt like a drink of some sorts to finish the day.  He found the kitchen empty, not surprising given the time of night it was.  Hearing a muffled noise coming from the dining room, he looked out through the kitchen window to see two angels in conversation.  From where he was standing it looked like Raphael and Ambriel.  ‘I wonder if they wouldn’t mind some company,’ Jerahmeel thought to himself.  Taking a glass of dwarrow juice he made his way out to join them.

 

As he approached, Raphael looked up to him.  ‘Jerahmeel, good to see you.’  Jerahmeel smiled.  ‘I hope I’m not interrupting here?’ he inquired.  ‘No, not at all,’ replied Raphael.  ‘You’re welcome to join us at any time,’ said Ambriel smiling.  ‘Thanks,’ said Jerahmeel, taking a seat.  ‘I just got back from Dalnaphon and was a little thirsty.  I’m surprised to see you two up so late.’  ‘Oh, I guess the time has got away from us a little, said Raphael.  ‘It happens to us often,’ said Ambriel.  ‘Anyway, how was your visit at Dalnaphon?  And how is Sariel doing?’  ‘I had a good time there, thanks Ambriel.  And Sariel’s doing fine.  Same as usual, I guess.’  ‘That’s good to hear,’ said Raphael.  ‘He spends so much time on his own.  He really needs more fellowship.’  ‘I suppose,’ said Jerahmeel.’

 

‘He seems happy enough, though.  I think he actually likes it on his own.  He tells me often that he likes the peace of a quiet life.’  Raphael nodded.  ‘Just like Azrael, in so many ways.  Prefers it on his own.  A danger I think of residing in the smaller keeps.  You can tend to drift apart from the fellowship a little.’  Jerahmeel thought on that comment.  ‘Do you think so?  Part of me thinks that’s just the way he is.  Probably the reason why he lives at Dalnaphon and not the other way around.’  ‘Yes, that is a point,’ said Raphael.  ‘Still, fellowship is important, and when you live on your own sometimes that can lack.  When he was younger, Dameriel spent a lot of time alone at Glimmersphon.  He said that his fellowship suffered initially, something he had to look at.’  ‘Yes, I guess.  But I suppose it also depends on the individual.  From what I know of him, Dameriel seems a sociable enough individual.  Sariel is not like that.  He is content to live the quiet life.’  ‘Yes, I know what you’re saying,’ said Raphael.  ‘It’s just that I fear the long-term consequences of such behaviour.  If you are on your own too much, it can make it difficult to socialise later when you might want to.’  ‘Yes, I guess so,’ replied Jerahmeel.  ‘But honestly, I think Sariel is intelligent enough to realize that.’  ‘You are probably right,’ said Raphael.  ‘Still, I only want the best for him and I know that involves fellowship with others.’  Jerahmeel nodded, agreeing with him on that point.  ‘Anyway, Melladon is coming soon.  Anything special planned?’  Raphael smiled, ‘Perhaps Jerahmeel. However I don’t think that I will be sharing anything before hand - it would spoil the surprise.’  Jerahmeel grinned.  ‘Yes, I know.  You never do.’  ‘We do have a few ideas,’ said Ambriel.  ‘We have actually been discussing them this evening.  But as Raphael said you will have to wait and see.’  ‘Fair enough, said Jerahmeel.  ‘Well, it is getting late and that flight has tired me out.  I might call it a night.  See you in the morning.’  ‘Good night Jerahmeel,’ said Raphael.  ‘Yes, good night,’ echoed Ambriel.  Jerahmeel smiled at them and left for his room.

 

As he made his way to his dormitory Jerahmeel thought on the friendships that he had.  He liked both Raphael and Ambriel.  Sometimes he felt that they both made too much fuss about others, but he also realised that that was their responsibility.  They looked after the social welfare of the brethren, something which he guessed had to be done.  On occasions he had wondered what life would be like without them.  Whether there would be the same social camaraderie amongst brethren.  He had reached the conclusion that there probably wouldn’t be, which made him appreciate them even more.  He imagined it could be a trying responsibility, which made him realise how easy he perhaps had it in comparison.  Still, that was the way things were, the way things Father wished them to be.  How long things were to remain like that, though, who could say.  ‘New ways are coming,’ he thought to himself.  ‘Ways which would perhaps change things forever.’

 

 

Chapter Seven – Morning, the Day's Advent

 

Morning.  The day’s advent, and the time that Michael perhaps felt the most alive.  Everything was new again - renewed almost.  The night before had put to sleep the previous days worries leaving him with a fresh slate, and the new day’s concerns were yet to invade into his life.  Morning - a time that he could simply enjoy being alive.  Looking out over the landscape surrounding Zaphon from standing on the roof of its uppermost tower, Michael thanked his Father for the way that each new morning almost seemed like it began his life all over again.  Another new day of promise in an endless future.

 

Looking skywards he could see another angel who perhaps appreciated the glories of the new day.  Raphael, ever so high, enjoying his morning sojourn in the skies.  Maybe he too thanked Father for the wonders each new morning brought.  Michael liked to think so.

 

From where he stood on top of the tower he could see most of the realm.  The realm of eternity - a realm which his Father had given him the responsibility to watch over, to manage its day to day affairs.  To the south-east lay the farming region.  It was there that the various fruits and vegetables that the angels lived off were harvested.  Soon there would be workers in the fields, tending to the various crops.  Conscientious workers, providing for the sustenance of their fellow brethren.  Michael admired each of them for the effort they put in.  Demanding labour, but work that needed to be done.  Turning westward he could make out the Delmarra ranges just south of Golden Lake - a place where marble and sand was quarried, and bricks were made.  And north of the lake the Geldurra woodlands which provided for the various woodwork items found throughout the realm - buildings, furniture and so on.  And to the North-east the Dunarra mountain ranges where the various mines were - mines which brought forth the ores for the metals used throughout the realm.

 

From his vantage point on top of the tower they were some of the more visible sites to be seen - but also, from Michael’s personal perspective, the more important ones.  The ones that provided for the everyday lifestyle that the angels enjoyed.  The ones that he had the responsibility of administering over.

 

Michael, firstborn of the Seraphim and head of the Assembly of God.  He was God’s advocate - Father’s chief representative to his brethren.  It was a weighty position and an awesome responsibility.  Yet, it was what Father had brought him to life for - part of the unfolding plan that he had for him.  Of course, he held his position with esteem.  His birthright had perhaps given it to him, but it was not something that he took for granted.  Each day, each new morning that life blessed him with, Michael undertook his role with the greatest seriousness.  His position required him to be an example to his brethren - an example of righteousness that he tried his best to live up to.  And, of course, it was demanding at times.  The privilege of his position naturally assumed an equal amount of responsibility.  And in all of his responsibilities Michael would work hard - he would work hard both to ensure that the various tasks were done as best he could, and to a standard that he felt was worthy of the position.

 

‘This is my life,’ Michael thought to himself, looking out over the realm he watched over - the realm of eternity.  But soon things were to change - a change that Michael knew he had to be ready for.  ‘Father, you truly work in mysterious ways,’ he thought to himself.  ‘Just what do you have in store for us all?’

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Each morning, after breakfast, Michael studied torah.  It was something all the Seraphim did, something which their God required of them.  The Torah was the truth - a work that Father had brought forth to assist the angels in their everyday life.  The principles that it expressed were eternal principles - divine truths that would last for eternity.  The Torah as it stood contained 140 established principles.  Father had told them that for each of the Seraphim created a corresponding principle had been established.  Michael, the firstborn of the Seraphim, corresponded with the first Torahic principle. It read  ‘From eternity to eternity, God is.  Know thy God with all thy heart, soul, mind and strength’.  The first word ‘Know’ was  a word filled with meaning.  It not only meant to understand, but to also love and to revere.  That, in a real sense, was Michael’s principle.  Each morning he would study it, think on it, and try to put it into practice in his life - and at days end, when he remembered, he would assess how successful he had been at doing that.

 

Over the many years he had studied it, he had memorised the full Torah a number of times.  Yet Father had still required that the angels study it each morning.  Davriel had told them that there was a continual benefit in having the mind focus each day on the divine truth.  Not simply memorising the words, but having the mind read and think on them each day, especially in the morning when the mind was fresh.

 

That morning he was studying section 11.  The Torah was divided in 14 sections, each section containing 10 principles.  The usual study pattern of the angels was to read through one section each day and to meditate thoughtfully on the truths the section expounded.  Section 11 began with Raguel’s principle.  It stated, ‘The Lord Almighty, he is God.  His judgements are righteous and true.’  It was one of the principles that Michael did not fully understand.  He knew that the word ‘judgement’ included the meaning of a decision, but it also had a deeper meaning that remained hidden to him.  Upon asking him, Father had told him that the principle would be understood in the fullness of time.  Apparently much of the torah was like that.  As time passed greater understanding would be gained.

 

With his study complete, Michael as usual sang a simple praise song.  Over the years the various praise songs that the angels sang at the end of their studies had been compiled into a scroll.  Davriel had called the scroll a book of Psalms.  The Psalms were simple songs of thanks and praise to God, usually sang at the end of study and other times of spiritual activity.  Michael sang one of Meludiel’s that day, but he occasionally would sing one of the few that he had composed.  His were not of the same calibre as Meludiel’s but they were sincere - an attitude he strived for in all his works.

 

With his spiritual activities finished, Michael took the Torah scroll and placed it in the small bookcase beside his bed.  As usual, his spiritual studies had taken about half an hour, after which his work responsibilities beckoned.  As he sat on his bed, he thought of the day ahead of him.  That morning he would be seeing Mistrel about the proposed building of a new keep.  That discussion would likely take a while.  After that he wanted to talk with Gabriel about a few things, and then probably lunch.  And of course, the Melladon celebration was that evening.  ‘Something to look forward to,’ Michael thought to himself as he made his way out of his room to begin his daily routine.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

‘Yes, I know Mistrel, I know.  You have been waiting a long time for this.  But as I said, with these latest developments I feel that it would be better to postpone the building of Pellersphon until a more opportune time.’  ‘But we have been waiting for so long, Michael,’ Mistrel persisted.  ‘Can we not at least make a beginning on the project?  Surely that is not too much to ask?’  Michael gave his brother a look of frustration.  He understood where Mistrel was coming from and appreciated his position, but he did not feel that the understanding of his own concerns were necessarily being reciprocated.

 

‘All right Mistrel, let me explain carefully.  I know full well how long the building of Pellersphon has been planned.  I think we first discussed the idea nearly thirty years ago.  And I appreciate that you have had to be patient until the time was right for the new centre to be built.  And I do promise you that it will be built, and hopefully soon.  But at this moment in time I do not feel it would be wise to commit the necessary resources to the building of the centre.’  ‘And why is that?’ asked Mistrel.  ‘I would have thought that was obvious,’ replied Michael.  ‘Father’s new work.  That’s why, isn’t it?’  ‘Yes, that is why,’ said Michael.  ‘This new work that Father has planned will undoubtedly change things within our realm.  It will be of a much greater size, after all.  And until that event has come to pass I simply cannot authorise commitment to a major project such as Pellersphon.  We simply do not know what Father may require of us in the weeks and months ahead.  To commit to such a project with this hanging over our heads is simply not possible.  Do you see what I’m saying.’  Mistrel sighed, running his hand through his hair.  ‘Yes, yes, I know what you’re saying Michael.  I myself have been wondering about the consequences of Father’s new work for us as well.  It’s just that Elenniel and I have waited so long for this project to begin.  And now it seems like it is being taken away from us just as it was about to happen.’  Michael smiled at his friend.  ‘I know Mistrel.  I would imagine it could be very frustrating for you.’  ‘Frustrating?  Hmm.  Yes, that’s one way to describe it.  But I do see what you’re saying.  If that is the way things are at this present time, I guess I will just have to accept that and be patient.’  Michael smiled at Mistrel’s obvious sarcasm.  ‘Look Mistrel, it will happen.  not now, but as you said, with patience the centre will be built.’  ‘Yes, with patience,’ echoed Mistrel.

 

Pellersphon, as the centre was to be called, was a new type of building not before seen throughout the realm of eternity.  The word ‘Peller’ had a deep meaning, conveying the idea of artistic design and performance.  The proposed new building was to become the home for the arts throughout the realm.  In regards to design, many of the angel’s artistic works were to be housed in the centre.  From the various paintings of Jamenuel to the engravings and woodwork of Elenniel.  It would even include some of the metalwork creations that Gandel had brought forth in recent years.  Furthermore it was to be a house of performance.  Dance was to be performed there.  From the merry jigs that Gamrayel had orchestrated, to the more traditional dances that the angels had performed since the days of the Garden.  And, of course, it was a place for music.  While the choir hall at Zaphon would remain the focus for formal performances of song, smaller performances could be given at Pellersphon.  It would also become the home for the performance of the various musical instruments that the angels had invented.

 

Mistrel had been the driving force behind the building of Pellersphon.  For a number of years he had discussed with Michael the building of the centre.  Initially, Michael had given a somewhat lukewarm reaction to the idea.  It had not been a priority for the angels at that time - they had other more important matters to concern themselves with; the ongoing development of the realm, the neverending need for new scholastic works, and so on.  But Mistrel had persisted, constantly confronting Michael with many persuasive arguments so as to convince him of the merits of the idea.  And eventually that persistence had proved successful.  Michael had agreed that such a centre seemed like a good idea, and had agreed to give the time and resources necessary so that the building may be constructed.  It was to Mistrel’s great misfortune that the proposed building of the keep had coincided so closely with the announcement of his Father’s new work.

 

‘Well I suppose that there is nothing that can be done then, is there?’ said Mistrel.  ‘As I said Mistrel, patience.  Father’s new creation will impact upon all of our lives, and dramatically.  We just don’t know what we will be doing in the immediate future, and perhaps for some time after that.  But I promise you that at the first real opportunity we have, Pellersphon will be built.  It’s just a matter of time.’  ‘Time, yes time,’ said Mistrel, the annoyance in his voice apparent.  ‘Well, I guess if that’s the way things are then there’s not much I can do about it.  I’ll just have to wait.’  Michael smiled knowingly at his brother’s dilemma.  For him he realised that their Father’s proposed work could not have come at a worse time.  Still it had, and Mistrel would simply have to accept that.  ‘Patience Mistrel, patience.’  ‘Yes, patience,’ Mistrel echoed.  ‘Well thank you for at least explaining your reasons to me.  I don’t know if I really like them, but I can accept them.’  ‘Thank you Mistrel.  It gladdens me to hear you say that.  Anyway, changing the subject, there is a Melladon celebration tonight.  Might you be performing?’  ‘Ah Melladon.  I was forgetting.  Well yes, actually.  I will be playing the glimpipe tonight.  And a new work too.  But I will leave that for tonight.  I don’t want to spoil the surprise now, do I?’  ‘No, of course not,’ said Michael, pleased that the change in subject had brought a positive light to Mistrel’s face.

 

‘Well, I guess I should be going.  Things to do, of course.’  ‘Certainly,’ replied Michael.  ‘See you tonight.’   ‘Yes, see you then Michael.’  Mistrel nodded, and got up from the chair he was sitting on.  Michael showed him to the door of his office, seeing him off to the day’s affairs.  Returning to his chair, he thought on Mistrel’s situation.  He felt for his brother.  Mistrel had petitioned him for a number of years for the building of Pellersphon.  There had always been reasons to delay its building, but eventually it had been given the go-ahead.  He could well appreciate Mistrel’s anger at it being delayed once again.  Still, delayed it would be, something which Michael could do nothing about.  There were other more important concerns that Michael had at the moment in time - concerns that could not be delayed.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Ambriel smiled.  ‘Yes Uriel, I am sure that it would be alright.  I will have to arrange it with Raphael of course, but I see no problem with it.  Besides, Meludiel is singing some songs tonight, and I think it would be wonderful for you to read your poems after she has finished.  I am sure the brethren will appreciate them.’  Uriel smiled, pleased at what Ambriel had said.  ‘Thanks Ambriel.  I have been writing some of them for a while and have been waiting for the right moment to share them with others.  Tonight’s Melladon celebration should be the perfect time.’  ‘Definitely,’ said Ambriel in agreement.  ‘I am sure it will add a unique colour to tonight’s celebration.  It’s not often we have poetry readings after all.’  ‘Yes,’ agreed Uriel.   ‘Look, I have to be going, things to do.  But I will drop around tonight just before Melladon and you can tell me if it’s okay to read the poems.’ ‘Yes, good idea,’ said Ambriel.  ‘I will organise it with Raphael and let you know then.’  Uriel smiled.  ‘thanks Ambriel.  Well, I’ll see you later.’  Ambriel stood to his feel and saw Uriel to the door of the room.

 

Returning to his chair, Ambriel thought on Uriel’s proposal.  That night’s Melladon celebration had been carefully organised.  There were various items of entertainment that had been planned - a number of musical performances and some dances.  A poetry recital seemed like the perfect addition to it, and Ambriel was sure that Raphael would approve.

 

As he sat thinking on that night’s celebration, Loquiel called out to him from the connecting office.  Raphael’s small assembly of workers claimed two rooms at the north-western corner of Zaphon, just down the corridor from Michael’s office.  The room Ambriel was currently in was decorated with various chairs and lounges, intended to be a place of casual conversation.  It was connected by a walkway to an office in which the more formal side of their business was organised.  That room was currently occupied by Loquiel who had been busy, engaged in the various responsibilities of the office. 

 

‘Ambriel,’ Loquiel called.  ‘Are you still there?’  Ambriel made his way into the small office.  ‘Yes Loquiel.  I was just speaking with Uriel.  Our brother has something special for us tonight - he has decided to share some of his poems with us.’  ‘Poems?  I didn’t know Uriel wrote poetry.  Has he been doing it long?’   ‘I couldn’t really say.  Something that I neglected to ask him.  But I am sure that they will be alright.  Knowing Uriel, I am certain that he would have put his best into them.’  Loquiel nodded his head in agreement.  ‘Yes, that is the way with Uriel, isn’t it.  Such a perfectionist, that one.  Always strives for the best.’ Ambriel sensed an air of concern in Loquiel’s statement. ‘I think that is an example that we all should follow Loquiel.’  ‘Yes, of course Ambriel.  But within reason.  While we should always work to our best, we also need to understand that we have limits.  We are finite creatures, you and I.  And while our Father is infinite, we are not.  That is something that I think all of us need to understand, and I think that I am practically quoting Torah in saying that.’  Ambriel smiled.  ‘Yes, of course Loquiel.  I know exactly what you are saying.  But what, dare I ask, are our limits?  And how are we to know when we have reached them?’  Loquiel smiled at his brother’s question, happy to share his viewpoints.  ‘How are we to know?  Mmm.  Let me answer that by asking you a question.  If you were to fly from Dalnaphon all the way to the southern most edge of the rim as fast as you could, how do you think you would feel at the end of it?’  Ambriel considered his response before answering, his curiosity aroused.  ‘I suppose I would be exhausted.  That flight is about 100,000 cubits - I am not sure that I could even fly it in one go.  Not as fast as I could, anyway.’  ‘Exactly,’ said Loquiel.  ‘And why is that?’  ‘I guess because I would tire out - run out of energy.  I mean it is a lot to ask of anyone,’ replied Ambriel.  Loquiel smiled.  ‘Of course it is,’ he said.  ‘When Father made us, our bodies, he made us to endure to a certain level.  Physically we can only take so much before we become exhausted.  The lesson - our bodies have limits.  And once we have reached them it is unwise to push our bodies any further.  Now, if physically we have limits, it stands to reason that we also have them in other areas.’  ‘Yes, and those areas are?’ interjected Ambriel.  ‘Well, mental areas and disciplines.  Take Michael, for example.  His duties keep him busy most days - he doesn’t often get time to relax.  And his work is very demanding.  But he can not go on working indefinitely.  His mind needs a time to wind down and to refresh. One of the main reasons that Father has given us the seventh day as a day of rest, I would imagine.’  ‘Yes,’ agreed Ambriel.  ‘I suppose that is one of the main purposes to the Sabbath rest.’

 

‘Now,’ continued Loquiel, ‘Uriel drives himself.  Sometimes very hard, in competitions and other things.’  ‘He likes to win, I think,’ said Ambriel.  ‘Yes.  Yes he does.  And while that is not necessarily a bad thing, driving yourself too hard can perhaps have unfortunate side-effects.  Firstly, of course, if you push yourself to extremes your mind will become exhausted.  After a while it may not work in its normal fashion - things like concentration and memory can slip.  They are some of the more noticeable effects of overworking.  But in Uriel’s case I worry about the emotional problems which he perhaps could encounter.’  ‘Emotional problems?  What do you mean? queries Ambriel with growing interest.  ‘Having to win all the time, having to be better, or even the best, is not the best mindset to have.  It can make you push yourself, sometimes too hard.  When you don’t succeed you can often blame yourself for the failure, which can lower your self-esteem.  And there are other problems in that it can affect the way you view others - others who are not as driven as yourself.  I could go on, but I think you get the idea.’ 

 

Ambriel nodded.  ‘Yes, I understand what you are saying.  They certainly sound like potential dangers.  But I don’t think that is the case with Uriel.  I think that he would be wise enough to understand his limitations.’  ‘Perhaps,’ said Loquiel.  ‘You know him better than I do I would imagine, so I couldn’t say for sure in his case.  But it does worry me. It is a lesson in life that our young brother still perhaps has to learn.’  ‘That may be so,’ said Ambriel.

 

‘Anyway,’ continued Loquiel, ‘I am mostly finished here for today.  ‘Time for lunch, I guess.’  ‘Yes it is,’ agreed Ambriel.  Loquiel continued, ‘Now after lunch Yasminael will come around.  As usual she will be helping us with preparations for tonight.  You should be right to help set up at the amphitheatre with her, shouldn’t you?’  ‘Yes, I think so,’ replied Ambriel.  We have done it many times before, so we should be fine.  ‘Good.  If you need any help please let me know and I will arrange something.  Well, let’s go.’  The two angels exited the small office, making the way towards the dinner hall.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Melladon was the most regular of the various celebrations that the Seraphim attended throughout the year.  As the name implied, it took place on the first day of every month, leading to 10 of such celebrations each year – 20 each cycle.  The months themselves were named after the firstborn of the male and female seraphim, in chronological order.  In the first year of the cycle – a cycle being 2 years – all the first 10 Male Seraphim were honoured.  The first month was Michamon, followed by Gabrimon, Raphamon, Urimon, Ragumon, Phanumon, Saruvimon, Sarimon, Bantrimon and lastly Cimbrmon.  In the second year of the cycle, all the first 10 Female Seraphim were honoured.  The first month was Elemon followed by Aquamon, Nimomon, Karmon, Doramon, Brindamon, Krystamon, Glorymon, Ashayzimon and finally Shemramon to complete the cycle.

 

Melladon was a festive occasion, a time when the angels could gather together in their common fellowship, enjoying the pleasure of each other’s company.  It was a celebration which Father had ordained.  Along with the new year and mid year festivals, as well as the Pentecostal festivals which were celebrated on the last day – the 50th day – of each month, he had decreed that the day after the Pentecostal celebration, each new month be a time when the angels could gather and celebrate in each other’s company the joys of life.

 

The celebration was held in the evening, dusk of the previous day marking the beginning of the new one.  Unlike the Assemblies held in the throne room, the Melladon celebration was not mandatory attendance for the angels.  Many though would usually attend, the numbers fluctuating throughout the year.  The heart of the celebration was thanksgiving to Father for the joys of life.  The word Melladon actually meant joyful new day, and Father had meant it to be a time when the angels could celebrate simply being alive and enjoying the fellowship of each other at the beginning of a new month.

 

That evening’s Melladon had been going well.  The celebration, as usual, was held in the small amphitheatre on the outer southern side of Zaphon.  The amphitheatre was large enough to seat all 140 of the Seraphim, although it was rare that every seat was taken.  Much work had gone into preparing the amphitheatre for the night’s celebration.  Stands featuring all sorts of delicacies and refreshments that the realm of eternity afforded were lined along the sides of the theatre.  They would be gradually emptied as the night wore on.  Colourful lanterns also ran along the railings surrounding the amphitheatre, providing light for the happenings.  The usual sequence of events was an introduction by Raphael to the night’s celebration, followed by prayer, quiet meditation and a song of thanks to Father which all the angels sang to welcome the new month in.  After that the night flowed along with food and conversation, interspersed with performances on stage.  The night, as usual, would conclude with the angels taking to dance on the front stage.

 

As Michael was helping himself to another glass of melit water from one of the stands Elenniel came up to him.  ‘Michael, may I talk with you.’  Michael took a sip from his glass and turned towards Elenniel.  ‘I think I know what it is you want to talk about.  Pellersphon, right?’  ‘How did you guess?  I was talking with Mistrel and he has told me that it is to be delayed yet again.  Is this true?’  ‘Yes, I am afraid so Elenniel.  Because of circumstances that are beyond my control I have had to delay the proposed start for Pellersphon.  There is really not much that I can do about it.’  ‘What circumstances exactly?’  Didn’t Mistrel tell you?  Well, as you are well aware our Father has decided to embark on a new work of creation.  None of us yet know when that work will begin, and until that time I am afraid I cannot authorise any other new works to begin.  Father may have need of all our talents in the immediate future and I would want us all to be available to him for whatever purpose he might have.’  ‘I see,’ said Elenniel nodding.  ‘Then Pellersphon will not be built!’  ‘No, I didn’t say that,’ replied Michael quickly.  ‘As I was telling Mistrel, it is just a matter of time.  When Father has finished his new work and we have settled into it we can look at Pellersphon again.  But until that time it is simply not possible.’  Satisfied with that answer Elenniel nodded her head.  ‘I understand Father’s work must of course take precedent.  I guess we will have to wait once again.’ 

 

Elenniel turned her head towards the stage.  Performers were making their way on to it and the angels were returning to their seats.  ‘It looks as if we have another performance.  Would you like to sit with me, Michael?’  Michael smiled, always happy to spend time with Elenniel.  ‘Yes, of course. After you.’  Elenniel led the way down the small amphitheatre towards the front row.  They took a seat next to Kimborel who smiled, greeting Michael.  As quiet came over the amphitheatre, the performers began playing on their instruments, filling the night air with song.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

With the Melladon celebration coming to a finish with the closing dance, the angels gradually dispersed, each heading to their own abode.  Michael, after finishing a conversation with Kimborel, approached Ambriel and Raphael who were packing away dishes at the side of the amphitheatre.  ‘Well, the night certainly went well, I would say,’  ‘Yes, certainly,’ replied Raphael.  ‘And Uriel’s new poem was especially interesting.  Very thoughtful in the way he expresses things in his life.’  ‘Yes,’ agreed Michael.  ‘A deep thinker is certainly one of Uriel’s qualities.  Something we should all appreciate, I would say.’  ‘That is true,’ said Ambriel.  ‘Well, could you use some help in packing up?  I know that you and the few with you are always doing it Raphael, but I have time now if you need me.’  Raphael nodded, and gestured towards the tables.  ‘They need to be stored down behind the front of the amphitheatre.  Loquiel looks like he has finished his conversation, so I am sure he could help you.’  Michael looked over towards Loquiel, who was now making his way towards them.  ‘Loquiel, could you help me put these tables away?’  ‘Of course,’ replied Loquiel.  The two of them grabbed each an end of one of the just cleared tables, and started making their way towards the front of the amphitheatre.

 

Later on, when everything had been packed away, Michael bid farewell to his friends, and started making his way towards his dormitory.  As he walked along, he thought on the night just passed.  Melladon was one of his favourite occasions that he looked forward to each new month.  It was an event that brought forth the talents of his brethren, something which brought quiet joy to Michael’s heart.  Seeing his brothers and sisters display the talents that their Father had given them gladdened Michael as it gave him an understanding of his brethren’s hearts and minds as shown through the art of each performance.  Uriel’s poetry that night was such an example.  Uriel had obviously taken great care in the writing of his poem, and the words spoken resonated with many of the angels that night, Michael included.  Yet each performance was special, not just for the display of the angel’s skills, but for the joy, peace and harmony that it brought to their fellowship.  As Michael walked up to his dorm he thought on that peace and joy that their fellowship had, and silently thanked his Father for the blessing that his brethren brought to his life.

 

Chapter Eight – Knowledge

 

Knowledge.  Knowledge was useful, or so Saruviel had been told.  In his visits to the library of Zaphon, and in his  many conversations with Davriel and Cimbrel, it had oft been stressed to him both the importance and usefulness of knowledge.  Important, as it explained the mystery surrounding things, and useful because of the many applications that such knowledge brought.  Whether that was from the complexities of mathematics and design to assist in building objects, or the different types of roots from plants that could help in the use of cooking various dishes, knowledge, in whatever form was useful, and to be sought after as something valuable.

 

Of course, prized most highly by the Seraphim was knowledge of Torah.  It was Torah, so it was said, that explained the greatest of all mysteries, the spiritual realities that governed their universe.  Of that being the truth did Saruviel have no doubts.  Torah had been a strong reality that governed the living of  his life.  In the principles expressed, Saruviel found answers to the many questions that he had and, as well as that, a sense of meaning and purpose.  He studied it each day, as he had done for many years, and was familiar with each verse, each word virtually.  In it he could find no fault.  As much of it that he did understand he agreed with, and the rest of it he sensed to be in perfect harmony with the other, though the full comprehension of it was something that he could not say that he had.  All that being the case, it was Torah that for so long had been the rock in his life that he had built around.

 

However, in recent times, thing, in some ways, had changed.  It was not that the torah no longer spoke to him.  It did.  But there was something else.  An uneasiness in his heart, in his soul.  Something which he did not have the words to explain, but something that none the less was there, eating away at him, demanding an answer.

 

In the last few months that something had become more prominent and demanding in his life.  While he had never been a recluse by nature, unlike some of his other brethren, his recent behaviour had seen him by and large cut off from the regular gatherings.  While he still had some modicum of fellowship that was limited mainly to his closest friends Kantriel and Daraqel.  They were really the only ones he felt comfortable with in a more personal way.  With his other brethren, the relationship he had with them was usually of an adversarial role, that after all being the task given him by his Father.  Because of that, it was not always that easy to relate to them on certain levels.  And in his present circumstances, sharing the difficulties he was going through with others just did not seem realistic to him.  If it was a trial that he was going through, it was a trial for him alone, not something that he could easily share.

 

That trial, the trial of his heart, kept him awake at nights.  In it he questioned things.  He questioned motives, both his own and others.  Why was he here, here in the realm of eternity?  What purpose did he serve?  And why did he and others do the things that they did?  They were but some of the questions that weighed  heavily on his heart.  At times he had answers.  At times things made sense, and he was happy then.  But still, a search for meaning occupied his heart.  Torah answered much, but still he questioned.   Still there lingered something in his heart that needed an answer, an answer to a question he wasn’t sure that he could even formulate.

 

Once, in conversation with Raphael, he had shared a little of his dilemma.  Raphael answered him well, sharing his own experiences, but not in a way that Saruviel could truly relate to.  He had closed by suggesting that he share his difficulties with their Father.  That was something that Saruviel had initially been reluctant to do, but had later taken Raphael’s advice.  God had spoken to Saruviel carefully, his words obviously well chosen in Saruviel’s own opinion.  He had comforted him and told him that over time he would gain the answers that he sought.  Patience, he had told Saruviel.  Patience, and answers would come.  Since that meeting some time had passed, and while he did not doubt that meaningful answers would come eventually, it was the waiting for those answers that he found difficult.

 

In the end, it was knowledge that Saruviel sought.  Knowledge that would give him a deeper understanding of his own circumstances and of the things that happened around him.  Knowledge that would explain the mysteries of his heart.  And the time had come for him, so he believed, to gain that knowledge.

 

In the beginning, in the early days of his life, Saruviel dwelt, along with the rest of his brethren, in the garden, now found just to the south of Zaphon.  The garden was their birthplace, and their first home.  In it they found fruit trees of all sorts to provide them with sustenance, and pleasant trees and bushes to rest under when weary.  The garden life had been idyllic.  A golden time in their childhood, when everything had been new and seemed wonderful to them.  Eventually that life had come to an end when the angels began moving out from their garden home.  Zaphon was built and from then on that became the abode for most of the angels.  But the garden was still often visited, even if only as a reminder of where they had come from.

 

Of course, the garden was also home to what their Father had called the trees of eternity.  These select trees were distinct from others in the special blessing that they gave to those who ate of their fruit.  First and foremost among them was the tree of life.  It was by partaking of the fruit of that tree that the angels gained the spiritual sustenance to live forever.  The fruit of that tree was taken every century at the new yeas day celebration.  Through partaking of it, Father blessed them with eternal life.  Whether that blessing was from the fruit itself or from the work of their Father no one knew.  But through their obedience that blessing came through the ritual eating each time.

 

Another of the trees was the tree of peace.  Fruit from that tree gave the eater a sense of great peace and  tranquillity.  It was a tree that Father allowed to those who went through difficult times, giving ease to the soul.  A tree that Father had advised Saruviel to partake of, which he had done, and had found the peace spoken of.

 

But the tree that Saruviel was most interested in, a tree whose fruit had never yet been eaten of by any of the Seraphim, was the tree of knowledge of good and evil.  It was that tree that Saruviel felt may unlock the current mysteries of his heart.

 

When Father had first introduced the angels to the trees of eternity, he had given them permission to eat of the tree of life and the tree of peace.  The tree of knowledge of good and evil, however, he had not given them permission to eat of.  Whilst he had not strictly forbidden any of the Seraphim from partaking of its fruit, his advice had been that while they were young with much to yet learn, the fruit of that tree would be of no use to them.  He had further told them that it could cause confusion to their young hearts and minds. It was a fruit, he had said, to be partaken of only by those of a mature age.

 

The tree itself was an item of curiosity to many of the angels.  Whilst they had some understanding of what it was meant by knowledge of good, Father first explaining to them that the joy and love they felt in their fellowship was an example of that which was good, they had little to no understanding of what it was meant by knowledge of Evil.  That was a term that their Father had yet to fully explain to them.  The best that they could surmise was that evil was that which was not good.  Davriel had suggested that the term referred to those things which were bad, an idea that seemed plausible to many of the angels.

 

Standing before the tree, Saruviel looked up at it, examining its leaves and fruit.  He had seen the tree a number of times before, mostly early on in his life, when he had been a resident of the garden.  No one, of course, had ever partaken of the fruit, something Father had strongly advised against.  That advice was still in Saruviel’s thoughts as he stood there gazing at the tree.  In some ways, he was nervous.  The unquiet in his heart was a strong call on his life.  It had been with him for many months now, and had led him to where he now was - to the tree of knowledge of good and evil.  But to partake of that fruit, to go against his Father’s advice, was a step he was not sure if he was ready to take.  He needed answers, desperately.  But did the gaining of those answers warrant the step he was about to take.  That question, he thought, he would have an answer to soon enough.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Kantriel was not an overly complicated angel.  At least, that is what he thought about himself anyway.  He lived a simple life, did the work allotted to him, got along well with his friends, and generally enjoyed himself in all his undertakings.  Father, he felt, had blessed him with a good life, one that he appreciated, and he was happy enough to live knowing each day that there was a purpose to it all, even if he didn’t understand everything about that purpose.

 

Since the time he was a young angel and old enough to think such thoughts, he had lived simply trusting his Father, believing that everything would always be alright, as that was the way that things had always been.  And, Kantriel had assumed, the way things would always stay.

 

That is where the dilemma with Saruviel challenged him.  Saruviel was his closest friend, a friend he’d had since he was very young.  In many ways, he looked up to him, and respected what he said.  Like Michael, Saruviel was very dedicated to his work, taking the role Father had given him with great seriousness.  His words in conversation he chose carefully and when Kantriel was around him he listened attentively to what he said.  But recently those words had dried up greatly.  His insular behaviour had been noted by many of the brethren, Kantriel receiving a number of queries on what Saruviel was going through.  He’d answered as best he could, but all he could really say was that Saruviel was going through changes and needed time to himself.  At least that Is what Kantriel hoped for with regards to his friend.

 

He’d spoken with Daraqel  many times about him to gain his perspective. The three of them had been close for many years and Kantriel hoped to gain understanding from Daraqel’s  point of view on the situation.  Yet Daraqel  seemed largely unconcerned about Saruviel, telling Kantriel not to worry so much about him.  “I’m sure Saruviel will find the answers he is looking for,’ he had said.  ‘After that he will be his usual self again.’  Kantriel held to those words somewhat, hoping them to be true, but still he had doubts.  Doubts and worries about how his friend was faring.  With those thoughts on his mind Kantriel made his way up the steps of Zaphon keep, his course headed towards the dining room for lunch.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Daraqel, all things considered, was happy with his life.  Although he never gave it very much thought, he enjoyed the life he lived and was generally grateful to his Father for having blessed him with it.  Being in his late 300s he had experienced many things, and was basically used to how life operated.  He had friends, good friends, whose company he appreciated.  He had work, which always gave him something to do, and there were always other things that kept him occupied.  Yet in all of that there was a strong theme of consistency.  Life generally didn’t change very much.  Which is where recent developments challenged him somewhat.

 

Like most of his brethren he had generally assumed that their Father had finished his creative works.  They were the Seraphim, his children, which is what, so Daraqel  though, he had wanted to bring forth for him to have company with.  And when their number at 140 had been completed, Daraqel had thought that that had been the end of his Father’s creative efforts.  Yet such was not the case.  Obviously Father wanted more children, for whatever reasons he had, and it was incumbent upon Daraqel to simply accept that.

 

In the last few days he had given it some thought.  In truth, he was not greatly bothered by the announcement.  He trusted his God, and assumed that his Father knew what he was doing.  And there was always the opportunity to make new friends with new brethren, which was something that excited many of his fellow angels.  That fact didn’t really get to Daraqel  that much, unlike Kantriel who had reacted extremely strongly to the news.  Although, knowing Kantriel, that was not that surprising.

 

And, of course, there was the situation with Saruviel.  His friend had not been himself for quite some time now, which, although he kept it to himself, worried Daraqel  somewhat.  Saruviel’s uneasiness had affected him as well, leading to his own introspective thoughts at times when  he was alone.  From the few words that Saruviel had spoken to him on what he was going through, he had learned that he was questioning the meaning of things.  It was something that Daraqel  had never really thought about, but it had sparked something in him, leading him to his own silent queries on life.  But those he kept to himself, not wishing to worry any of his brethren.

 

Certainly, life was not its usual self, yet he was sure things would return to normal soon enough.  Or so he hoped for.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Semambarel looked up from his lunch at the approach of one of his friends.  Kantriel was making his way towards were Semambarel sat, lunch tray in hands.  His friend nodded to him, smiling, and took a seat opposite.  ‘Hello Kantriel, said Semambarel.  ‘Busy morning?’  ‘Not really,’ replied Kantriel.  ‘Harvesting was finished last week, so I have some quiet time for a few weeks.  I have just been spending some time with Abraqel out at the Delmarra ranges.’  ‘Really?’ replied Semambarel.  ‘How did that go?’  ‘Oh, it was all right.  Interesting, really.  He showed me around the main mine where he quarries most of the stone we use.  I’ve been there a few times, of course, but he showed me some of the techniques he uses for mining the rock.  Very hard work, of course.’

 

Kantriel paused, partaking of some of his lunch, before speaking on.  ‘Anyway,  how have you been?  I don’t think I have seen you for a while.’  ‘I’ve been well enough,’ replied Semambarel.  ‘Busy, though.  Judael has requested some special ink for a new type of papyrus she is preparing for Davriel.  I have been working all morning on the right shade to go with the new papyrus.’  ‘Really,’ said Kantriel.  ‘What is the new papyrus for?’  ‘I’m not sure, but I think it may be for one of Davriel’s new works.  You could find out from him.’  ‘Semambarel paused, taking a sip of juice from his mug.  ‘You know, Kantriel, I haven’t seen much of Saruviel recently.  Is he well?’  Kantriel stopped off eating a piece of bread, unsurprised at Semambarel’s question.  ‘Well, he’s alright.  He is still behaving normally, I guess.  But yes, as you have probably noticed he is keeping to himself.’  Semambarel raised his eyebrow at that comment.  ‘Well, is there any reason for his solitude?  Saruviel is generally one of the more social of us.  Many of us have noticed his absence as of late.  It worries us a little.’  ‘I could imagine,’ replied Kantriel.  ‘I’m afraid that all I can really say is that Saruviel needs some time to himself.  He is working through some problems that he has.  How long that will take, I can’t really say.  I only hope that it will be soon.’  Semambarel nodded, seemingly in agreement with that comment.  ‘Let’s hope so, anyway,’  ‘Yes, let’s,’ said Kantriel.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Darkness.  Darkness was the absence of light, or so Saruviel had been led to believe.  Light was strong, persistent, irresistible.  It was bold, encompassing the angel’s activities each day.  Enshrouding them with colour and glory.  God their Father was, so Davriel said, the source of light.  From him came shining forth the light that illuminated their realm.  Each morning and day his power brought radiance to the scape of eternity.  His glory rang through the realm, brightening the angels’ lives, bringing colour and joy to the hearts of his children.  Of course, there was night as well.  But night in the real, of eternity was simply a time of lesser light.  A time when the light was not so strong, more reserved, restful even.  A time when the angels could likewise rest from their activity, resting in the calm gentle glow of eternity’s twilight embrace.

 

But it was darkness that, for the moment anyway, occupied the thoughts of the recently ever-thoughtful Saruviel.  Darkness was a place without light.  A space where light did not exist, a place it could not go.  A place where God’s glory yielded - or refused to enter - for whatever reasons that might be.  This idea fascinated Saruviel.  The idea of darkness, a void of emptiness where light did not enter, was something new to him. 

 

As he lay on his bed in Glimmersphon keep, staring out the window into a light-filled eternity, his mind wondered upon this new revelation.  What would it be like, he thought to himself, to be without light.  Without the comfort of God’s presence.  To have nothing to guide by, to see by.  He’d closed his eyes, experimenting, wondering at such a thing.  All his life he had lived surrounded by lights presence.  It had been there, watching over him, enabling him to chart his way around the realm he lived in.  It had been there, like a silent companion, guiding him in all the steps he took.  To be without that light, he thought to himself, would be confronting.  To not have that guardian to sight watching over each step, assisting one through one’s activities, would be daunting, daunting to say the least.  But still, there was something in it that attracted Saruviel.  There was something about darkness, something he could not put words to describe, but something that appealed to him nonetheless.

 

That afternoon he had, after much hesitation, partaken of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil.  The fruit itself was lightly sweet in taste, with a hint of sourness.  He’d taken it, seated a distance away from the tree, looking towards Zaphon.  He’d taken it, not knowing what to really expect, but his heart, so he had hoped, prepared for whatever may come.  Initially though, that was little, if anything.  He had thought there may perhaps have been some reaction.  Perhaps some grand revelation, some great new understanding.  But after eating the fruit, all that had really accompanied it was the sound of the wind rustling in the leaves.  No, there was no great revelation.  He had simply continued sitting there, staring towards Zaphon, awaiting he knew not what.

 

After a while he’d stirred from his resting place.  He’d rose to his feet, perplexed at the apparent lack of change in his thoughts.  Bemused at the seeming indifference with which the fruit had affected him.  Doubts had come in.  Perhaps it had not worked.  Perhaps he needed to eat more than one piece to have a real affect. But no, he thought to himself.  God had made the tree as it was.  He had to trust him, to assume that whatever the fruit was intended to do, it had done.  And whatever that was, he would see over time.

 

As he had made his way back to Glimmersphon keep, slowly gliding through the light-filled atmosphere heading westwards, something perhaps did happen.  His thoughts focused.  And something came to him.  An idea.  An idea about the world he lived in.  Looking over the landscape spread below him, he thought on how he was able to perceive it.  On how he was able to appreciate its beauty, its wonder.  And that made his heart happy.  Inexplicably there was joy in his heart at being able to know of, and to see such beauty.  And to understand that it was his God that had created this wonderful work made him happy in a way he couldn’t describe.  It made him glad, so glad that he was alive.  Alive to live in such a wonderful world, to live in such a wonderfully made paradise. All that he could really say was that it was good.  Somehow that word seemed to so perfectly describe the world before him.  To express exactly what it was that his God and Father had made.

 

That joy remained as he flew along, filling his heart with silent admiration of his Father’s great handiwork.  After a while, though, he stopped in his thoughts, stunned almost.  That joy had taken him by surprise.  Even those thoughts had taken him by surprise.  Certainly, after all the questioning his heart had struggled with recently, the turmoil his mind had wrestled with, such joy was a welcome relief.  A happy respite from the constant quest for knowledge, the unrelenting thirst for understanding  But it was something unusual.  Something so unlike the way he’d normally think.  It was something, a joy so deep, that he’d not felt before.  Something that made him question why he would think such things, and react in such a way.

 

Slowly it dawned on him.  The fruit.  It was the fruit that had done it.  It must have been.  The Saruviel he knew wouldn’t think such thoughts.  He dared say he’d rarely contemplate things such as the marvel of God’s creation.  But such things he had thought on.  And a joy, so unexpected, had entered his heart.  A joy he could only call good.  He thought on the fruit, thinking upon the title his Father had given it.  The tree was called the tree of knowledge of good and evil.

 

Of course, it was the idea of knowledge that had captivated him, had attracted him. It was knowledge he was seeking, knowledge that would answer his questions, that would give his heart rest.  And a tree of knowledge, a tree that would give him insight, give him understanding, was what he needed.  Was what his heart  yearned for.  But, of course, it was a tree of knowledge of a particular type.  It was a tree of knowledge of good and knowledge of evil.

 

It was goodness, of course.  He understood the term from what he had been taught about it.  And he could only call good the understanding he had just experienced.  It was understanding of something that was full of light and joy.  Something that filled his mind with awe, with understanding, of what was wonderful.  Understanding or knowledge, knowledge of that which he could only call joyous, knowledge of that which was good.  Such, he thought, was the knowledge he had just experienced.  Such, he thought, was the knowledge that the fruit had brought forth.

 

Flying along, he smiled to himself.  He laughed a little.  If that was goodness, what a wonderful thing it was.  What a thing to bring pleasure to the soul.  If that was goodness, how great was his Father.  How good he must be to bring such joy into being.  Joy that had filled his heart, knowledge of goodness that had such a profound affect on him.

 

Certainly, it was knowledge that he had been given.  He was not really sure if it was the type of knowledge that he had expected, but nonetheless, it was the knowledge that he had received.  A knowledge unexpected, but a knowledge that he was now thankful for.  And a knowledge that had answered his silent prayers, a knowledge that had given some rest to his seeking soul.  As he flew along the thanked God for that knowledge of good, his thoughts not yet turned to that other aspect of the trees providence.  That other knowledge, knowledge which his brethren knew so little about.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

It was later that afternoon, as he’d returned home, and after refreshing himself and retiring to his bedroom, that thoughts of a different type entered the mind of Saruviel.  Thoughts that in nature seemed perhaps a stark contrast to the thoughts earlier that day, thoughts that had given him such a profound insight into God’s goodness.  As he sat on the end of his bed, drinking a glass of water while looking out his room’s window, he noticed again the wonders lying out there before him. 

 

The scenery surrounding Glimmersphon was something that he appreciated now, even more so than before.  It was wonderful how he could appreciate such goodness, how his eyes could take in such marvellous sights.  Thinking on that, he contemplated just how it was that he could in fact see the works God had made.  His eyes let the imagery into his life, but the eyes only perceived it because of the light that lit eternity’s realm.  That was something he knew.  Cimbrel was a scholar amongst the brethren, and he’d at times given instruction into how their world was made and worked, knowledge that God had shared with him.  As with Davriel, he’d given the angels understanding of the concept of light.  Light was the substance which illuminated their lives, that which enabled them to see each other and the realm that they lived in.  This they appreciated and understood more so at night, when light was less, giving them some measure. 

 

Light, of course, came forth from God.  God was pure light, so Davriel had said.  He was the centre of Glory, infinite radiance coming forth, emanating from him.  And his light filled their whole realm, guiding them in everything they did.

 

Without light, though, there was darkness.  This was a concept not easily defined.  Cimbrel explained that at night, when light was less, that darkness was there too.  Darkness was where light was not.  With eyes closed they also had some understanding of what darkness was.  Davriel had said God was everywhere, and that darkness was limited only in as much as God limited himself from it.  This Saruviel thought on.  He knew of light, and was thankful for it.  But darkness was something he did not know of.  What exactly was it?  Could it be seen?  What was it made of, if anything?  Such thoughts entered Saruviel’s mind, as he lay on his bed, the unrelenting questions of his mind continuing.

 

As the afternoon passed, Saruviel thought greatly on the subject.  It was, again, something new to him.  A subject he had previously given little thought.  All he could say, was that darkness perplexed him.  He had some vague understanding of the concept, but could not really define what it was.  But it was something that he was curious about.  Something that he wanted to know more of.  If God was everywhere, as Davriel had said, then where could darkness really be.  If light permeated all that was, how could darkness exist.  This thought he found challenging, yet fascinating as well.

 

After a while, afternoon began to wane, and evening approached.  Looking out the window he did indeed notice that light seemed to be growing dim.  Shapes became harder to make out.  Darkness, apparently, interfered with the work light steadily undertook.  Darkness lessened the impact that light made, having its own influence on the realms atmosphere as evening slowly descended.  Saruviel wondered to himself just then what it would be like if light surrendered completely.  If darkness was allowed to complete its march upon it, to have night completely to itself.  The angels would be left with no guide.  He supposed they would not be able to see anything, to be left to search around with no aid, perhaps stranded as prisoners to where they lay.  Such a thought made Saruviel a little uneasy.  It dawned upon him how awkward that might be, and suddenly he regretted thinking it.  If God was light, would he be there?  Thinking upon it, it scared him a little.  Darkness was where God was not.  But how could that be?  God was everywhere, that was what Davriel had told him.  How could darkness be?  How could it exist?  As he thought more about this the uneasiness continued.  If God was not there, perhaps he did not want to know.  God was his Father.  He watched over him, and was central to Saruviel’s life.  If darkness was without God then Saruviel thought that perhaps he didn’t really want to know that much more about it.  Perhaps it was a subject not really worth thinking about.  Perhaps it was something best left to the explanations of Cimbrel and Davriel.  A subject he now felt best left untouched.

 

Suddenly there was a yearning in his heard. He needed to see somebody.  He needed to talk to someone, to be in their presence.  He had just been scared, although he had not the words to describe what he’d felt.  And he needed to be comforted, and quickly.  Leaving his room, he made his way down to the kitchen where Dameriel was busily at work, preparing the evening meals.  He was then glad to see his friend, his brother.  And suddenly very grateful for the care his brother had shown towards him, the hospitality he’d received.  Something he’d not really thanked him for.  He touched Dameriel on the shoulder, who turned towards him, and smiled.  “Yes, Saruviel? he said, the concern apparent.  Saruviel looked at him and smiled.  ‘Umm, ah.  Nothing really Dameriel.  I just wanted to talk to you, I suppose.’   Dameriel nodded, ‘Of course.  Whatever you want to talk about.’  Saruviel smiled at his friend, his heart grateful at that warm response.

 

Later that evening, as Kantriel and Daraqel  returned from their days activities, Saruviel thought on just how lucky he was.  He had good friends, friends that cared for him.  And at the moment he was glad for their presence.  Glad at the love they freely gave.

 

That night Saruviel slept well.  His heart was happy, perhaps for the first time in months.  He’d found a peace and solace in his friends, friendships that he had perhaps neglected.  And a  love he had not felt for he knew not how long had returned, a love and comfort whose warmth he now rested in.  As he lay there resting, night slowly passed outside his window.  And the darkness he’s so recently discovered hovered there, slowly going through its allotted time.  It hovered there, watching over the resting Saruviel.

 

Chapter Nine - Secondborn

 

Gabriel was not the oldest of the Seraphim, that particular honour belonging to his older brother, Michael.  But in many ways, to his brethren anyway, he was looked upon nearly being as such.  It was more often Gabriel, and not Michael, that brought tidings from their Father.  It was Gabriel that often represented him to the brethren, and Gabriel that often gave counsel to them on his behalf.  He spent much time with his God, many long hours in conversation, gaining insight into life, and understanding into the way things were run in the realm of eternity.  He loved being with him, loved learning from him, for he was his Father and teacher.  But, as time had passed over the years of his life, he had become somewhat more than that.  He had become, so Gabriel felt, his friend.

 

God, so he had told Gabriel, often confided in him.  He shared with him private thoughts he had.  Thoughts on his children, and thoughts on their home.  These were often weighty words for Gabriel to receive.  God was, so Davriel had often said, an infinite being.  He had knowledge of all things, an understanding that, so Davriel had termed, was omniscient.  Yet he was also a being of infinite power, of infinite might.  What all that meant was that being in his presence, being in conversation with him, was unlike anything else that Gabriel had experienced.  It was unique.  And when he spoke, God’s words were deep, heavy, even.  Often, Gabriel felt they were laced with all sorts of meaning.  Meaning that he thought he sometimes grasped, but at times could not honestly say.  But words that also spoke in a plain directness, words intended to be understood, that Gabriel took in with all their force, and all their clarity.

 

And today, strong words he had received indeed.  Today God confirmed what he had previously hinted at.  It was now official.  New brethren they would have.  And such an immense number, one million four hundred thousand in all.  That news had stunned Gabriel.  To have so many new brethren, so many new brothers and sisters, was an idea that had at first overwhelmed him.  How could he ever possibly know so many.  To meet them for the first time alone would take months, probably years even.  And to remember all their names would take a lifetime.  It simply made his mind wonder.

 

And, of course, the realm was to grow.  That they had already known, and indeed to the width of five million cubits, as Father had previously said.  And throughout the new realm, so Father promised him, would be new landscapes, new sights and scenery to give the angels even more room to roam.  More space to soar throughout eternity and behold its wondrous new sights.

 

It was now his responsibility to share that news with his brethren.  God, for whatever reasons he had, had chosen Gabriel to give that news.  Gabriel had thought perhaps Michael, perhaps on this occasion for news so important.  But no, God had chosen him, seemingly happy with Gabriel serving as his messenger.  It pleased Gabriel to do this for his Father, but he did spare a thought for his older brother.

 

And he was to share the news that night, at evening dinner, as had become the norm for announcements.  He was to ensure, so his Father said, that all his brethren were present.  And by that he had stressed all - none were to be absent.  In accomplishing that he would need help, as a number of angels did not reside in Zaphon’s keep.  But Davriel always helped him in such circumstances, as well as Raphael and his small group.  They would help get word out and ensure all were there to hear the dramatic news.  News, he was sure, that they were anxious to hear.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Raphael, of course, was happy to help Gabriel in his need.  He spoke words to his team, assigned the usual roster, and sent them out to ensure the evening’s turnout.  Gentle Ambriel had smiled at the news, obviously pleased that what they had been told in promise was now confirmed in word.  It meant new brothers and sisters for him, something that brought a fresh light of joy to his ever-happy face.  Raphael himself had expected the announcement to come.  And the dimensions of the work didn’t really surprise him.  God did wondrous things, this he knew.  To be so bold in bringing forth so much new life was something not unlike his Father.  He was, after all, God.  And he had a vision, an imagination, a sense of purpose that brought great things to life.  It was why Raphael appreciated and loved his Father so much.

 

He himself had a handful of his brothers and sisters to track down.  To inform of that night’s important gathering.  Chief amongst those was the ever-reclusive Azrael.  And that silently pleased Raphael.  Their recent lunch had, as Raphael had seen it, gone well.  Azrael had opened up to him, sharing much about his life, and his thoughts on things.  They’d talked well into the afternoon learning it would seem much from each other.  Azrael had surprised Raphael somewhat in what he actually knew.  He seemed well informed of the happenings in the realm, and about the general goings on of his brethren and their affairs.  And he seemed to have friendships that Raphael knew nothing of.  A whole social circle that Raphael had not really been part of.  It was something that surprised him about his brother.  That afternoon, so Raphael now liked to believe, they had formed a new friendship.  Hopefully a bond was now there.  One in which trust could be formed, and loyalties given.  It was what he hoped for, anyway.

 

He found him in the vegetable garden of Senersphon keep, as he had correctly guessed.  Azrael was usually the sole inhabitant of Senersphon, and the keeping of a vegetable garden was a responsibility he had taken unto himself.  It provided a source for some of his meals, and gave him work, so he’d told Raphael, that he enjoyed doing.

 

Landing just near the garden, he made his way into it, past rows of various plants, some he was not sure he’d seen before.  Azrael, who was on his knees digging at the ground, looked up at the approach of his older brother.  He nodded to him as he approached.  Raphael smiled.  ‘Azrael.  I’m glad to see you.  That looks like hard work.  Glad I’m not doing it.’  Azrael grinned at that, happy to see his friend.  ‘Yes, but it’s work that needs to be done.  These plants often need our assistance to keep them growing.  Anyway, what brings you around?’  Raphael looked down at the dirt Azrael was digging through, wondering just what assistance his friend was giving the plants.  ‘Tonight.  Dinner at Zaphon tonight.  You, with all your brethren will be there, for we have news.  An announcement we’ve been waiting on.  You may know what it is.’  Azrael looked up from his digging, his eye alert at that announcement.  ‘Father’s new work?’ he queried.  Raphael nodded, ‘Yes, you guessed.  It would seem that Father has indeed decided to go ahead with his new endeavour.  Gabriel received the news this morning and we are to hear the details tonight.’  Azrael resumed his digging, thinking on those words.  ‘Well.  It’s change, I guess.  I suppose we’ll get used to it.’  ‘Yes, I guess that’s one way of looking at it.  I sense from your tone though, that you don’t really seem overjoyed by the news.  Do you not really care?’  Azrael stopped digging, obviously thinking about his answer.  ‘Well, no.  I wouldn’t say that.  It’s just that I’ve had some time to think about it and I guess it doesn’t really bother me.  Just change, I suppose.  We’ll get used to it.’  ‘I suppose,’ said Raphael, mildly bothered by his brother’s comments.  It was certainly something that had impacted on Raphael’s life, and he found his brother’s position slightly peculiar, curious that he could be so seemingly nonchalant about it.  Still, that, from what he had seen, was not unlike Azrael.

 

‘Anyway,’ he continued.  ‘Dinner is at the usual time, and I will be glad to see you there.  Your best tunic might be a good idea.’  ‘Sure,’ replied Azrael.  ‘I’ll be there.’  Raphael nodded, pleased with that.  ‘Well, I guess I will be going.  I have other people to chase up.  But I will see you tonight.’  Azrael got to his feet, wiping dirt off his hands.  ‘Sure Raphael.  And thanks for coming to tell me.  I will be there.’  Raphael smiled at his brother, and turned, making his way out of the garden.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Gabriel looked across the dining room as he entered through the side doors.  It was near full, some of the angels still arriving after their days activities.  Michael was at the head table, in conversation with one of the angels next to him.  Gabriel still thought to himself that it perhaps should be Michael to share such important news.  But no, God had chosen him, so he would do so willingly.  Some eyes were upon him as he made his way across to his own table and sat down.  No doubt they had some idea of why they were gathered together that evening, and anticipated the news he was to give. 

 

As he sat there he thought on how he would share the news his Father had given him.  Directly and to the point, he supposed, as he usually did.  ‘Gabriel.  So it’s going to happen then?’  Gabriel looked across at the angel who had just sat down opposite, his younger brother Kelkuriel.  ‘Well, if you mean Father’s new work, then yes.  His decision has been to proceed with it.’  ‘That doesn’t surprise me.  He doesn’t change his mind much.’  ‘Rarely’, agreed Gabriel.  ‘Tell me, how has your day been?’  ‘Oh, typical really.  Nothing unusual.’  ‘Mmm and how is Surafel?’  ‘Oh, he’s fine.  Happy enough.’  Kelkuriel was crafter of wood who, along with Surafel, produced the furniture and various wooden items used around the realm.  ‘Anyway,’ continued Kelkuriel, ‘when will you make the announcement?’  ‘Towards the end of dinner, I suppose,’ said Gabriel.  ‘It’s the best time for such things.’   ‘Yes, it probably is,; replied Kelkuriel.  the dinner trolley pulled up to the side of their table, interrupting their conversation.  A tray was passed to Gabriel, who received it gratefully.  When all the angels had been served, Michael rose in the centre of the room, and the angels quieted.  He prayed a short prayer, a prayer of thanks to their God for the provision of their meal, and then sat.  Chatter again filled the hall, and the angels began their meal.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

‘And, as he said, the new realm will be enlarged to 5,000,000 cubits.  With much in the way of new scenery.  And a whole host of new trees and plants.’  The whole room was alive with chatter as Gabriel had begun relating to his brethren the details of the new work his Father had planned.  ‘And, as I said before, we are to have new brethren.  But what may come as a surprise to many of you is the great, and I must say great, number of new brothers and sisters we are to welcome to our world.  In all, one million four hundred thousand.  Each, Father has said, quite unique.  Each quite distinctive.’  That news caused a buzz around the room. 

 

‘Yes, I know it’s a lot,’ continued Gabriel, ‘But that is Father’s desire.  He has assured me that it is his complete will for there to be such a number, and that there being so many  does serve a purpose.  A deep purpose, so he has said.’  Gabriel paused, taking a sip of melit water before continuing.  ‘Now, this much you have known, to a degree.  But there is more.’  He looked towards Michael, smiling.  ‘Our older brother, Michael, is our head here in the realm of eternity.  As you would all agree he serves us well in managing the affairs of his realm, a tireless job he does with skill and great dedication, to which we are all grateful.’

 

‘In our new realm, though, there is to be new responsibilities.  Firstly, six more main keeps are to be built.  Not small ones, as you might think, but great ones.  Ones to rival our home here, Zaphon.  Along with Zaphon, they will serve as Beacons throughout the new realm.  They will be grand homes, centres of activity for both ourselves, and our new brethren.  And each keep will house a number of us, a new home for many.’

 

‘And, as I said, there will be new responsibilities.  Father has decided to appoint for each of the new keeps an overseer.  A head angel to watch over the keep and, apparently, a region to administer.  And with that the responsibility of watching over many of the new brethren.’

 

Gabriel again paused, allowing that news time to be received.  He took a sip from his glass and resumed  ‘Six of us here he has chosen for those roles.  Six, so he says he finds appropriate for the task.  Michael, as you may have guessed, will remain here in Zaphon.  He is to watch over this head-keep, as Father has said it will be; and be there for all of us as a guardian and guide.  The new keeps, though, will have their own heads.  And, yes, he has shared with me those names, and asked me to share them with you.  Each keep has its own name, each serving a purpose.’

 

‘Firstly there is Mitraphon.  Mitraphon, as the name suggests, will be focused around spiritual teaching.  A place where angels can gather together in fellowship, and learn the ways of God.  A place, also, where they can learn from each other and share their ideas on life.  A place of love, and peace.  It is Raphael that Father has chosen to head this keep.  Raphael that, so he says, will bring the necessary qualities needed to watch over and guide the affairs of the keep.’

 

Gabriel turned to Raphael, who seemed mildly surprised at the announcement, looking a little dazed as the eyes of the room were upon him.  ‘Raphael,’ said Gabriel, ‘Congratulations.  may you minister your responsibilities with wisdom and love.  Well done.’  Raphael smiled back and nodded.  His shock seemed to have diminished and, to Gabriel, he looked somewhat pleased.  An angel to his left leaned over and patted him on the back, obviously happy for his brother.

 

Gabriel continued.  ‘Next, is the keep Brephon.  Brephon is to be a home to tradesman, a place where organization of the realm’s work activities is co-ordinated from; and a place whose region will include much of the new farming sector.  Miners and builders will also find a home there, a place also where those skills will be taught.  Perhaps unsurprisingly, God has chosen Raguel to oversee that keep.  As you know, he serves us well running the farming sector, and Father has decided that his skills and talent at that job warrant him being the one to watch over Brephon’s activities.’ 

 

Gabriel turned to Raguel, smiling.  ‘Raguel; may you continue in your work with all the dedication you have shown all of us so far.  And congratulations.  Well done young brother.’  Raguel stood and gave a slight bow.  He also looked pleased.

 

‘Romnaphon will oversee other types of work; the more specialized tasks many of our brethren undertake.  Craftsman, workers in wood and stone, and those who produce finished goods such as pottery and tools and other things; they will find a home at Romnaphon.  And like Brephon, those skills will be taught there.  Education into those activities will take place in that keep.’ 

 

‘Our brother Phanuel has been chosen to watch over that keep.  Father has said he is appropriate for the task; the most suitable candidate.  Gabriel turned to him.  ‘Phanuel.  I trust that, as you have done, you will continue to work with maturity and understanding  May you administer Romnaphon with all the God-given skills and talents that you possess.  And may you succeed in all your undertakings.  Congratulations.’  Phanuel nodded back at Gabriel, his demeanour suggesting calm satisfaction at the news.

 

Gabriel continued.  ‘As some of you may know, we have long awaited the building of Pellersphon.  A home to the arts, and a place of performance.  No doubt, such a place will be built eventually.  However, in our new realm, Father has perhaps taken such a thing into account.  Pelnaphon is to be the home to the study of the arts.  It is to be a place where art and music will have a home a place where us angels may gather to study these things, to learn and to discuss.  Of course, as with all the keeps, it will be home to a number of angels, and still carry the responsibility for overseeing the region of which it is part.’

 

‘It is our young brother Uriel that God has chosen to watch over this keep.’  Gabriel turned to him.  ‘Uriel.  I pray that you undertake this role with all the wisdom that is within you.  May you guide and teach those under you, and bring all your talents this important task.  Well done young brother.’  Uriel smiled back, looking a little shocked at the announcement.

 

‘The keep Kalphon is a keep devoted to competition    A place where physical activities are pursued, and a place where intellectual challenges in our various games can take place.  A place where angels can gather together to compete with each other, and to learn from each other - a place where we can seek to reach the best in ourselves, and see that develop in others as well.’ 

 

Gabriel turned towards Saruviel.  ‘Saruviel.  Father has chosen you to watch over this keep.  May you continually set an example to all you watch over.  An example of dedication and the pursuit of the best that is within us.  I congratulate you brother.  Well done.’  Saruviel calmly nodded back towards Gabriel, seemingly not overly concerned with the announcement.

 

‘Our last keep,’ continued Gabriel, ‘Is the keep Terraphon.  As its name implies, Terraphon is to be a home for scholars and the pursuit of education.  It will house a new, great library, to which our brother Davriel will  watch over.  And angels throughout the realm can gather together there to learn all the forms of knowledge that we have unearthed through our studies, and grow in wisdom and understanding.  And, for whatever reasons he has, God has chosen myself to watch over this keep.  I promise you all that I will do so as best I can.  My utmost devotion I will give.’  Gabriel paused then, letting these details sink in.

 

Shortly after he continued.  ‘Now they are the six new keeps to build.   Of course, with so many new brethren, six keeps will not be enough to house such a number.  There will be, then, in addition to them, a great number of other smaller residences, a large number built alongside those keeps; others built in various places.  And there will be other buildings of different types, the details of which Father has yet to reveal.’

 

He paused, taking a sip of melit water before continuing  ‘They are largely the details that Father has revealed to me to share with you.  Now, as for when all this will take place, Father has said quite soon.  In fact,’ he said looking towards Michael, ‘as many of you might know our oldest brother is to turn 400 shortly.  To coincide with that event, Father has deemed that the first of our new brethren will be born.  So, as you can see, it is not something we will have to wait on.  And on that day Father has decreed an assembly to take place.  We are to gather as one at noon in the throne room.  There Father will speak to us, and share with us what is to come.  And that is the news that I have to share.  If there are any questions please come and see me as soon as dinner is finished.  Thank you brothers and sisters for listening.’  Gabriel returned to his seat, as the hall became alive with conversation.

 

Later on, after Gabriel had spent a good while answering a number of queries, he made his way towards Michael.  ‘Well brother.  News indeed.’  Michael smiled, ;’Yes, Gabriel.  And thank you for speaking so well.  And congratulations yourself.  A great responsibility it is indeed.’   ‘Yes, yes it is,’ agreed Gabriel.  ‘One thing that I would share with you is your new role.  There is, Father has said, to be a new council.  You and the six of us are to serve on that council, to gather every few months.  You are to head the council, being chief spokesman  Now, before you ask, the exact details I do not know.  Father has asked that you speak with him soon and he will discuss it with you.’  Michael nodded, taking the news on board.  ‘Sensible, I would imagine.  And Zaphon’s new role?’  ‘The council is to be situated here,’ replied Gabriel.  ‘God has said for Zaphon to be the seat of government, a place where the whole affairs of the realm are discussed, and instruction and rulings given.’  ‘Yes, I see the wisdom in that,’ said Michael.  ‘In some ways, it seems not much change.’  ‘Continuity, I think’ said Gabriel.  ‘Father understands how things are supposed to be.  the new realm is to be like this one.  Simply enlarged.’  ‘Yes,’ agreed Michael.  ‘And my birthday.  He has his ways, doesn’t he.’  ‘I think it fits in with a larger plan he has,’ said Gabriel.  ‘But whatever his reasons, yes that is the date.  And not so far away.  We’d best ready ourselves.’  ‘Certainly,’ agreed Michael.

 

The two of them talked for a while longer, as the room gradually emptied.  Later, as Gabriel was making his way towards his dormitory, he thought on the evening’s announcement.  The news had been received well, to which he was happy.  It seemed most of the brethren now accepted God’s decision to enlarge their realm.  The doubts of many had seemingly disappeared, having probably gotten used to the idea.  That pleased him.  For such a thing to go ahead, so Gabriel thought, unity amongst the brethren was important.  That now apparently achieved, there was nothing he now had to fear.  As he made his way towards his room that gladdened him.  A time of change indeed.  But something for Gabriel anyway, to look forward to.  Whatever may come.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Beyond the dark?  The Light?  Or something completely other?  It was later, now.  Later since that dark night of the soul.  4 Months had passed and Saruviel had grown a little softer – a little more compassionate.  The tension had eased somewhat, as if a dark spirit had finally given up and gone to others to seeks its malevolent will.  And now Saruviel, in a way a stronger Angel, toughened by his heavy philosophical cogitations, seemed more relaxed and at peace, better able to cope with his deepening introspective thoughts – almost as if now such thinking had been grafted into him, inculcated into his nature – now something which came almost naturally.

 

He took a sip of water, sat upright in his bed in Glimmersphon keep, and thought on Dameriel.  Perhaps this once he would go down early and prepare the morning breakfast.  Yes, a good idea to show his gratitude to the brother who cared for him so much.

 

Standing there, in front of the stove, carefully frying the Langata plants with the mushrooms and tomatoes, Saruviel was in a good mood suddenly.  Suddenly it felt good to be doing something for others, to be doing the work for the upkeep of the keep.  And perhaps he had not quite done enough, not quite set the example that the 7th Seraphim should set.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

As Dameriel finished his breakfast, taking a swig of orange juice, he asked Saruviel what had gotten into him to think about preparing breakfast, but all Saruviel would say was that someone had to do it.

 

Kantriel and Daraqel showed up later that morning, chatting away happily with their usual lively banter.  They went out to sit on the shore of Golden Lake later on in the afternoon and as Saruviel sat there, he silently thanked his father that the tribulation of his soul was now complete.  And then he took a flat rock, fluck it across the lake, watching it bounce and smiled to himself as the other two joined in.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Samael, child of heaven, was miffed.  Really, quite miffed.  All that bloody work on Saruviel and the lad had gotten over it.  Not even the slightest bit of aggravation against God which had pissed him off mightily.  Still, he had a backup plan.  A good one.  Satan of Infinity, firstborn of the Saruvim, aye, he would do the job.  He would take care of things.  He would ensure the grim and gruesome work of the dark lord of heaven continued, steadfastly and faithfully dedicated to his malevolent purposes.  And grinning to himself he cracked open a can of beer and lit another cigarette.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

‘His name is Semyaza, and he is firstborn of the Cherubim.’  As God spoke those words there appeared, emanating from the presence of his glory in the throne room of Zaphon, a form wrapped in cloud.  Shortly the cloud dispersed and there, standing before the Seraphim, stood an angel, his head facing downwards.  As time passed, he apparently became aware of himself, and raised his head.  He opened his eyes and looked out upon those stood before him. He looked around, wonder upon his face, taking in the first images of his life.  What it was that he thought of the scene before him, the angels could not say but each hoped for the best of introductions to their world. 

 

Michael stepped forward to greet their new young brother. ‘Semyaza, welcome.  We,’ he said indicating the angels around him, ‘are the Seraphim.  You are our new brother, the firstborn of the Cherubim.’  Semyaza looked at him, wonder still on his face.  He again looked around at the Seraphim, before returning his gaze to Michael.  For the first time he spoke.  “You are Michael?  The eldest?’ he said querying.  ‘Yes, I am,’ Michael replied.  Semyaza nodded, taking that in.  He spoke again.  “Father has told me of you.  And of the others.  You are my brethren, he has said.’  Michael smiled warmly.  ‘Yes, we are.’  The other angels then moved forward together around their new brother, and to welcome him to their world.

 

As the months passed, more and more brethren came to be.  Each was welcomed warmly, each received with love.  The cherubim were, in many ways, similar to the Seraphim.  Their appearance was essentially the same, although they were, in general, a little smaller in their frames.  They also had just two large wings, as opposed to the four wings that the Seraphim possessed.  Yet, apart from those differences they were, from what appeared to the Seraphim, largely like them.  And each, as their Father had said, possessed their own name, and their own features and persona.  Each quite unique.

 

The realm, of course, was expanded as well, although in a way which surprised some of the brethren.  Their home still stood as it was originally made, roughly circular in shape.  The newly fashioned realm encircled their own, yet they were separated at the rim by a number of cubits; the new realm being also about 50 cubits lower down.  Although the angels could of course fly down to the new realm, Father had asked that stairwells at some time be built to connect the two together.  This was so that the angels could also walk down to the lower area, and of course walk back up as well.

 

And, after the angels had spent much time exploring the new realm, plans began for the building of the new keeps.  Father had designated the sites they were to build at, and had given them the basic ideas for the keeps – leaving the ultimate design to each keep overseer.  Each keep would take a number of years to build, but that was as it should be.  In the meantime, the new cherubim were to live in the various gardens scattered throughout the realm, feeding off the provisions given from the various fruit tress and vegetables from the ground.

 

Semyaza, as became obvious to all, quickly assumed a mantle of leadership amongst his Cherubim brothers and sisters.  He gathered around him a number of loyal followers, angels who looked up to him and respected him as their eldest brother  A group of them soon formed within the Cherubim community who had the most influence on the whole.  Angels such as Urakiba, Ramiel and Kokabiel and a number of others rose up as leaders amongst them.  They had much say in what the Cherubim did from day to day, exerting a strong influence on those around them.

 

Relationships between the two communities of angels was, at first, very strong.  The young Cherubim looked up to the Seraphim as their older siblings.  They went to them with many questions, and sought guidance from them.  This was given with a ready willingness, each of the Seraphim pleased and quite happy to share the wisdom they had gained from their experiences of life. 

 

However, as time passed, this diminished a little.  What was perhaps a nurturing period came to an end, and the Cherubim seemed to form a distinctive identity and community of their own, happy to work out their problems in life for themselves.  This was as it should be, so their Father told them  As Michael had become aware of this, he had become anxious.  Concerned that their new younger brothers seemed, to a degree, separate.  However, after many conversations with Father, his fears had been dispelled.  They were, God had said, all angels and all his children.  And being as such, they were one.  But the Seraphim were his firstborn, and the Cherubim his second - and their being two distinctive communities God said was quite natural.  Nothing to be alarmed about in any way.  Time, he said, would work all things out.  Michael had accepted this, trusting his God.  Time, he supposed, would work all things out.  Time would tell of what would be.

Chapter Ten – Dameriel's Dilemma

Dameriel was a gentle angel. He did his work in Glimmersphon keep with happiness and peace. He enjoyed the company of his twin Florel a great deal, and she would visit him at Glimmersphon, and they would have tea and scones, and talk of the way the Realm of Eternity had become an interesting place to live in with the new outer disc of Terraphora formed just recently, and all the excitement of the new Cherubim community.

'Saruviel is not my cup of tea these days, Dammie,' said Florel. 'He's on a mission. I can tell. He's on a mission.'

'A mission from God?' queried Dameriel.

'Who is to say,' replied Florel. 'I think the mission from the plans of God lies deeply rooted in the centre of our beings, and that while destiny might have its say, that is all entertainment in the end, and the we are who we are.'

'Or who we choose to be,' replied Dameriel. 'What we master our gravity thereon.'

'You and your theology,' replied Florel. 'We can't be anything in all our self makings we aren't already created to be, and what we choose to be is only from the inspiration of the ideas around us anyway. There's nothing new under the sun dear brother.'

'I beg to differ,' replied Dameriel. 'Your smile is new to me every time I see it.'

Florel blushed. 'You are too kind, dear brother. Is Saruviel staying again tonight?'

'Yes. He has contemplations to contemplate yet again. He says these days he has found a peace in a truth he knows is a truth, and it is shadowy and dark, he says, but comforting none the less.'

'I fear for him,' she replied, sipping on her tea.'

'Life will go on, much as it has done this past age, the Age of the Seraphim. The Age of the Cherubim will be new, with new innovation and meaning and understanding, but life will inevitably, inexorably and eternally, dear Florel, go on.'

'I suppose so,' she replied.

'Yo bro,' said Valandriel, coming into the room. 'That was a good night's sleep.'

'Your up at last,' said Florel, to her brother Seraphim Valandriel. 'Will Elsabel be down any time soon?'

'I dare say. Look, I have to meet with Daniel later on in the day, something to chat about with a new idea, but I will be back for evening meal,' said Valandriel.

'Good to hear,' replied Valandriel. 'Say hello to Daniel for me.'

'Do we have crumpets for breakfast?' asked Valandriel.

'I'll see to that,' replied Dameriel, and got to his feet, leaving to the kitchen.

He got to toasting the crumpets, and sat down on a kitchen chair, looking at the wall. This was life. It was something which he had been thinking about recently. All the endless contemplations of Saruviel seemed to have that effect on Dameriel. Considering his own quiet philosophy on the meaning of it all, one thing he knew to be true, as Gloryel would endlessly affirm. Don't take life TOO seriously. Learn to relax and be yourself, and if you must, rise above and be a light to the world, and impact it in the way which brings what you desire to see accomplished, accomplished. And he knew in his heart you couldn't con people, so he choose to be real and true and honest, and set an example, instead of a compass of dialogue of persuasion. Quiet and mild, and that spoke the words he wanted heard.

The crumpet had cooked in the oven, and he had them buttered, and put jam upon them, and came back out to the dining room.

'They look good,' said Valandriel, who had poured himself a cup of tea. 'Anyway, as I was saying to Florel, have you noticed anything different about Saruviel recently. He seems to have these new ideas, ideas which seem to challenge some of our conventions. He is staying with you at the moment, so I just wondered.'

'Saruviel is a law unto himself,' replied Dameriel. 'And that is his newly appointed roles, as we all know, so expect just that Valandriel. Why would he not be who he was?'

'Why indeed,' replied Valandriel.

The day passed, and Valandriel left off to Zaphon to see Daniel, leaving Dameriel with his usual chores, and a quiet afternoon. Late in the day Valandriel hadn't returned yet, and he was inside, when a knock came to the front door. He went and opened the door, and a Cherubim angel stood there.

'Hello, dear brother. Can I help you?' asked Dameriel.

'I am Cyril the Cherubim,' replied the Angel. 'The 241^st of the Cherubim Angels. I have come to inquire if you have room for the evening.'

'I recall your name from studying the list,' said Dameriel. 'Of course we have room for you. Come in Cyril, come in.'

Cyril came into the main room of Glimmersphon, and Dameriel indicated he sign his name in the guest registry, and showed him to his room.

'Dinner will be in a few hours. There is running water, which we get from Golden Lake, naturally, and the heater is working, so we have hot water. Dinner is just after dark, around twilight. A couple of hours from now,' said Damriel. 'Come down when you are ready.' And he left the Cherubim angel, and returned to his work. Shortly there was another knock at the door. 3 female cherubim angels stood there.

'I'm Andrea,' said one. 'I'm Sharon,' said another. 'I'm Caroline,' said the third.

'You are definitely cherubim sisters,' said Dameriel politely. 'A strong resemblance of each other.'

'One after the other on the pecking list,' said Sharon.

'We formed a tryptych,' said Caroline.'

'Ain't life grand,' said Andrea. 'Do you have room for the night.'

'Yes, we can accommodate you,' said Dameriel. 'I had expected another quiet night, but now that is already four new guests, and I'm starting to fill up.'

'Cherubim Jim will be coming along too soon,' said Caroline.

'You better fit him in,' said Sharon.

'He's sensitive,' finished Andrea.

'We have room for Jim,' replied Dameriel.

Dameriel showed them to their rooms, and smiled later at life's ironies. It never rained but it poured. When the third knock came he expected the said Jim, but it was a female Cherubim.

'I'm the Cherubim Mary. Is my twin Cyril here?' she asked.

'He is indeed,' said Dameriel. Mary pushed past him, and sat down on a couch, and pulled out her knitting.

Dameriel left her be. She seemed to know her own mind.

Soon Jim arrived, Valandriel returned, and it was a full house, as he laboured in the kitchen. Dinner came, and the dining table was full. And that's when Saruviel walked in.

'What the fu...?' queried Saruviel, as he walked through the door.

'We have guests,' said Dameriel, looking softly at his Seraphim brother.

'Obviously,' replied Saruviel, and sat down at the other end of the table.

'Don't forget to say grace,' said Mary at Saruviel. He glared back in response.

'You're the dread Lord Saruviel, ain't ya,' said Andrea.

Saruviel glared at her also.

'The Angel of Adversity,' said Jim, somewhat dramatically, ladling out for himself some more soup.

'It is my work and my mission,' replied Saruviel. 'And I take it seriously, Cherubim,' he replied somewhat heatedly. 'How long will these – guests – be staying?' Saruviel asked, with a very upset look in his eyes, to Dameriel.

'He's sensitive,' said Sharon. 'Can't cope with company.'

'He's probably just shy,' said Caroline.

'I think he's up himself,' said Mary.

'Mary, don't say that,' said Cyril.

'Get stuffed,' Saruviel said to Mary.

'The dread lord Saruviel can't hack it,' said Andrea. 'And we were told he was tough stuff.' The room started giggling.

'Unbelievable,' said Saruviel, and stood and left the room in a huff.

'We'll save you some dinner,' shouted Andrea, at the departing Saruviel.

'Some guys, sheesh. Sensitive,' said Sharon.

Valandriel, slowly, turned to Dameriel, and looked at him.

'I know,' replied Dameriel softly. 'They're new, ok. They're new.'

'You could say that,' replied Valandriel, shaking his head.

The following day Dameriel was busy again, at the front desk of the Keep, when the door opened and an angel entered. Dameriel was busy with his notes, and didn't look up right away, but the angel interrupted him anyway.

'Do you cook the new Italian style?' asked the Cherubim angel.

'We're full,' replied Dameriel, now looking up at his guest, a vaguely familiar looking Cherubim angel.

'I'm John,' said the Angel. 'Cherubim angel John.'

'Sorry, John. We are full.'

'So you cook the new Italian style. And me and the band will sleep in tents in front of the lake. We just want to eat here at evenings.'

Dameriel looked. 'Yes, sure. Ok. I'll make spaghetti and langwah.'

'Sounds great,' said John. 'Alec, Tico, Richie and Dave will be joining me for dinner tonight. We're cherubim musicians.'

'Oh, I've heard of you. You're the Bon Jovi band, aren't you. Gabriel enjoys your music. He mentioned yourselves to me.'

'That we are,' replied John. 'The Corrs are staying here at the moment, I heard.'

Dameriel looked at the Cherubim, with a puzzled look on his face. 'The Corrs?'

'Andrea, Sharon, Caroline and Jim. They do Irish music.'

'Yes, the new forming culture stuff,' replied Dameriel. 'Yes, they are here.'

'Sound's great,' said John. 'We'll hang.'

'Welcome to Glimmersphon John. A pleasure to meet a new brother.'

'The pleasure is all mine,' replied John the Cherubim.

It took 3 days, and Dameriel, who had noticed a few others starting to hang around in tents with the Bon Jovi boys came out one morning, and gasped. Hundreds, possibly thousands of tents, and Cherubim angels everywhere, many playing in the lake in the morning heat, and singing and dancing. He spied the popular Jesus the Cherubim, who was speaking to a lot of people, standing on a table, and doing his thing. Apparently he fancied himself a teacher of sorts.

'Wonderful,' Dameriel thought to himself, looking at the spectacle. He noticed a banner. 'Golden Lake Festival.'

Coming back inside Florel took him aside.

'A festival?' she asked him. 'Why do they want a festival here?'

'I have no idea whatsover,' replied Dameriel, but I sense it was probably planned a while ago.'

'Then Saruviel will get no rest,' she said, grinning a little.

'I doubt he'll stay long,' replied Dameriel. But he was wrong. Saruviel came down to dinner that evening, and was ignoring the noise from outside.

'Don't mind the carrying on,' said Mary. 'It's a special cherubim time. We're having a celebration.'

'Fascinating,' replied Saruviel dryly.

'Your welcome to join in,' said Caroline.

'If your not too shy,' said Sharon.

Saruviel again glared at the cherubim females, and then started eating his meal. 'I'll think about it,' he said softly after a few moments.

Dameriel tilted his head a little at that. It wasn't Saruviel. It was not some thing he would do. It was very surprising. But as the days turned to weeks, Saruviel seemed to be involving himself with the goings on of the festival, and Dameriel noticed him having a debate with Jesus the Cherubim one afternoon, with a huge crowd watching them both. And it was very strange. He actually seemed to be enjoying himself. The dark lord was finding who he was in a new way, it seemed, to Dameriel. A community with a different sort of spirit, a spirit which Saruviel actually could relate to. Very weird, the Seraphim Dameriel thought to himself that night, and drifted off to sleep, the noise of the partying steadily dying down as slumber took over.

All good things come to an end, and the festival died down after a few weeks, leaving the original crew which had shown up hanging around, then the Bon Jovi boys disappeared, and life was mostly back to normal when the Corrs band left. But Cyril and Mary remained, and Saruviel seemed to have settled somewhat.

'You've found yourself, haven't you,' said Mary.

Saruviel didn't comment initially, then looked at her. 'What is that supposed to mean?'

'You like our community. The Cherubim do something for you that the Seraphim don't. We know all about you Saruviel. You are a major focus for Jesus.'

'The healer, as they call him,' replied Saruviel. 'A minister of the soul.'

'He has a special calling,' said Mary. 'He has growing influence in the Cherubim community.'

'He speaks words which resonate with many,' said Cyril.

'Quite obviously. I am Seraphim,' said Saruviel. 'And that will not change,' he said firmly, and stood, smiled at the breakfast table, and left the room.'

'He seemed to have found something in you all,' said Valandriel, eating his crumpets.

'He'll challenge you all, though. In the end,' said Florel.

'Undoubtedly,' replied Elsabel.

Dameriel considered what was being said. Saruviel. Quite a fascination with him by the Cherubim community, especially from Jesus. He sensed some deep plan might be going on with God, perhaps Saruviel was getting answers to his dilemma, perhaps God was doing his ministry and answering Saruviel's questions.

'If you don't mind, we'll be staying a while,' Cyril said to Dameriel.

'Your company will be appreciated,' said Dameriel.

'We have some reasonable holiday time built up,' said Cyril. 'Mary and I have worked hard for many years now, and Semyaza got approval for us to have a bit of a break from our work responsibilities.'

'It will be our pleasure to look after you,' replied Dameriel.

Later in the day Florel was sitting with her twin.

'These here are busy days. Not quite what we are used to, are they?' she said to her twin.

'The Cherubim community have brought new life. We can't expect things to be like they were before. It was our time, innocent days, but life moves on Florrie. So we move with the times.'

'That we do,' replied Florel.

The following morning it was a busy breakfast table again, and Kantriel had joined them. Breakfast. Toast, coffee, and cereal. Kantriel was happy with all that, and the others seemed happy enough to be presenced by Saruviel's closest friend. But it was discussion of the Saruviel Paradox which was going on that morning, and while breakfast was a delight, the opportunity to share his views excited Kantriel even more.

'Why do you want to be so free?' Cyril asked the older Seraphim.

'It's a philosophy we've been thinking through,' replied Kantriel to his younger Cherubim brother. 'And I think its something I believe in somewhat. It's the heart of Saruviel's dilemma, and he's shared it with me, but its something I saw my own truth hinged upon as well, should you suggest I'm a stooge of my older brother. Daraqel largely runs with what we envision, but has his convictions also. It's a right we have. Has angels.'

'A right for what?' asked Cyril.

'To do as WE please,' replied Kantriel. 'Because its OUR life to live. Not God's. It's OUR life.'

Cyril nodded, and sipped on his tea.

'Our life needs guidance. Torah does that,' said Kantriel. 'We mustn't ever assume we have all the answers. We don't,' said Valandriel.

'But its up to us to find those answers for ourselves,' replied Kantriel.

'The Cherubim Torah gives us Cherubim all the answers we need. But I do like what Jesus teaches as well,' said Mary. 'He's an inspiring angel.'

'Fascinating,' said Kantriel. 'Jesus the Cherubim. Think's he special.'

'Oh, he's not special. He's a servant of God,' said Mary. 'His feet are firmly planted on solid ground. He's no dreamer.'

'Freedom is no dream,' replied Kantriel, bringing back the conversation to the subject he wanted to talk about. 'And it should be for all who want liberation.'

'Liberation from what?' asked Cyril.

'God,' said Kantriel honestly. There was silence for a bit.

'God,' said Cyril softly to himself. 'Not sure about that. We all need God.'

'Saruviel is a madman if that is what he thinks,' said Mary. 'It goes against what we are all about as angels. It's opposing to the truth. I guess it is exactly as I said. He's up himself, and his role has gone to his head. He's lost focus. He's lost his grounding. I've heard all about this. So many of the Cherubim get excited over the new things, and go off doo lally, and don't even do their work and responsibilities properly. A glorious adventure of life and its possibilities, and so much of some peoples teachings, that they don't live in the real world terribly much. Life is about work and serving God and being loving to our fellow angelkind. Doing it all our own way? That will, well, it will only lead to confusion in the end. It's not wise. And its certainly not the sound instruction God has given us.'

'I think I might agree with that,' commented Valandriel.

Kantriel looked at the table. 'What do you say Dameriel?' Kantriel asked, looking at the silent angel.

'I think its time I cleaned up this table,' he said. 'As you all look about finished.'

'Humph,' replied Kantriel, but said nothing more as Dameriel gathered plates, leaving the guests of Glimmersphon keep to go off to their days activities.

Later that evening Florel was speaking with Dameriel in the kitchen, as they were cleaning things up.

'Do you want to be free?' Florel asked Dameriel.

'I have all the freedom I need,' replied the angel.

'Then Kantriel's wisdom doesn't inspire?' she asked.

'They may have given it much thought, but aspects of truth are missing from their philosophy,' replied Dameriel. 'We have freedom already. But Torah guides us to exercise it with sensible restraint. If we remain calm when things come to tempt us to be dreamers, as was said, we think through the issue at hand more carefully, give it time, and realize it's passion. And not the kind of passion that gives life its memories, but silly passions, especially of love games I often see among the Cherubim. Saruviel's passion is some sort of new vision for our world. But I trust in God's vision, who plans things with the greatest of forethought.'

'Perchance our brother has wandered down pathways of knowledge which God has yet to traverse,' replied Florel.

'And perhaps God knows the end of all pathways,' replied Dameriel.

'Yes,' said Florel softly. 'Perhaps he does.'

'Are you tired? I know its late, but the kitchen table cloths really need washing,' asked Dameriel.

'I'll get to them now,' replied Florel.

'Thank you so much for spending this time here and helping me with my work,' said Dameriel. 'It has never been so busy, and I've had my hands full. I am sure it will all calm down soon enough.'

'For you it is a work I'd always do,' said Florel, and left off to gather the table cloths from the dining room, to take them to the laundry.

Dameriel finished putting away the cutlery into the drawers, and began sweeping the floor. A busy day yet again, and Kantriel was company, with Cyril and Mary and Valandriel and Saruviel. The person he enjoyed most, though, was quiet Cyril, who sat dranking tea, and reading quietly in the living room each day, who spoke gently, and was always polite. He was quite calm as an angel, and a very good example of what a Cherubim angel should be all about. He was very pleased to have such company. His twin, Mary. She had a way about her. Wise in her own way, and quick with her tongue at times. She certainly kept Saruviel in check. Lively times at Glimmersphon Keep, out of the usual in most respects, but pleasant enough, and something of a change. He continued sweeping, and eventually left off to the laundry, finishing off the work with Florel, before climbing the stairs to his bedroom at the end of another long and active day at Glimmersphon Keep on the shores of Golden Lake.