Infinite Class

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Infinite Class

Chapter One

A deep well. In the heart of Nadrazon, the silver city. A deep well. A wellspring almost. Of the 7 original Onaphim angels of the Realm of Infinity, Abrel was the sixth of such angels, and Zelophrayel was the 6^th female of the Celestyels. And Abrel and Zelophrayel were best of friends. And in that little love circle, Samael, firstborn of the Onaphim, also registered an acquaintance of regular visitation. Traditionally, amongst the 70 Onaphim of heaven, which was a name also given to the first 10 groups of 7 angels as a whole, there were friendships well known with each other, and Samael was well known, deservedly so, for his due adoration of the company of Aphrayel and Sandalphon. Yet he knew them all and, over time, had established relations with others of the Onaphim also. And while Aphrayel and Sandalphon gave the type of camaraderie that Samael valued most of all, Abrel and Zelophrayel had a calmer persona about their friendship together and once, in the library of infinity, Samael had sat down next to the two of them in conversation, and the beginnings of a circle of friends began, which had lasted for quite some time now. And, in the heart of Nadrazon, the silver city, beneath Azion the Golden City, the 70 Onaphim knew as their home, there was a wellspring of spirituality in a simple home, a simple abode, in a group of flats, which overlooked some playing fields, which Abrel owned, and Zelophrayel and Samael visited to him on many recent occasions. It was pleasant spirituality to Samael, for it was the fire of a hearth of love, quite different to what he was normally acquainted with.

'4 of spades,' said Abrel.

Zelophrayel looked at him. 'That's a good card,' she said. 'Are you sure you want to risk it so early on in this round?'

Abrel placed the card down on the table, and the two others considered it. The game was a complex tricks based game with very elaborate rules, and even when you were losing, a good strategy could turn things around.

'Well, 4 of hearts,' said Samael, placing it down, and looking intently at Zelophrayel, whose card could determine with Abrel, Samael or herself took the trick.

'9 of clubs,' she declared, and placed the card down, and so Samael won the round.

'Do you fancy some pizza tonight?' Zelophrayel asked Samael.

'I don't know. Maybe,' he replied.

'Pizza would be good,' said Abrel. 'And I love the cheesy garlic bread.'

'I can order some,' she said, looking intently at Samael.

'Go on. Pizza will do fine,' said Samael.

Zelophrayel went off and rang for pizza and the two boys looked at their cards.

'It's been a quiet week,' said Abrel. 'Not much happening. I might have to duck into the office next week for a while, take care of some things. Money doesn't grow on trees, you know.'

'Don't I know it,' replied Samael. 'I sometimes question economic wisdom, compared to our earlier life, but it works well enough. Motivates people I think,' commented Sammy.

'Angels can be lazy,' said Zelophrayel, coming back to the table. 'Using a monetary system is the only way we can get some angels to do anything at all. They weren't all trained as well as us, you know. Some of them have very slack attitudes.'

'The blessings of the firstborns,' said Samael softly.

'Perhaps we should strive more as the Lord compels us and teach our young brethren a more strict code,' said Abrel.

'You want everyone a Logos?' asked Samael. 'I fear he will be a religious cult in time, anyway. The way things are shaping up these days. It's not even damn Torah he preaches half of the time. A personal agenda of popularity I accuse him of.'

'Don't let him get to you,' said Abrel. 'Big brother has a big ego. Wants to be and remain number one forever.'

'And he certainly doesn't mind letting people know about it either,' responded Samael. 'Counsel these days is a farce. The amount of kissing his highness’s exterior is sickening.'

'Ooh,' said Zelophrayel. 'Samael wins the popular vote for a while, and thinks everything is sweet. But Logos comes on strong for decades now, and Sammy is jealous. Ooh, ooh, ooh,' she said.

'Shut up, Z,' smiled Samael. 'Logos sucks, kapiche.'

'Jealous, jealous, jealous,' smirked Zelophrayel. 'I should indeed tell Aphy all about it.'

'Go ahead,' said Samael. 'Blab all our discourse to the world and beyond, if that is what tickles your tits.'

Abrel chuckled at Samael's smutty talk.

'Well, I will,' she said defiantly.

'Betcha don't,' said Abrel. 'You respect our circle too much to do that.'

'Shut up,' she said. 'I shall disclose all to all and sundry who beg even the slightest bit of gossip.'

'Bullshit,' said Abrel.

Zelophrayel smiled. 'Oh, OK I was only joking.'

'Everyone thinks its funny,' began Abrel.

'Until someone loses an eye,' finished Zelophrayel. 'Goodness me, Abrel, the amount of times I've heard that bloody saying of Logos' is too many to count.'

'Don't I know it,' said Samael dryly.

'Come on. Be fair,' said Abrel. 'I mean what is so bad about Logos anyway? He's our older brother.'

'First,' said Samael, looking at his cards. 'He sucks.' The two others grinned at that. 'Second,' continued Samael, 'he's a pretty hopeless politician. Right wing madness, fundamentally approached, no real concern for the welfare of the community as long as his tribe of zealots are doing well and making all the cashola. They feather their nests, and then go on about the evils of the left wing all the time. And while we have the genuine concerns for peoples liberties and freedoms, they claim they offer true freedom through following the Logos and listening to his wisdom, while all the time curbing their freedoms on behaviours which are only perfectly natural in the end anyway. Their a pathetic joke.'

'But a popular joke,' said Zelophrayel, looking at her cards.

Samael gazed at her.

'Yep,' continued Abrel. 'Damn popular. Latest polls suggest Logos' is gonna kick your arse in power for a fair while to come, bro. People seem to dig his message.'

'The only freedom they offer is the freedom to exploit employees, make incredible money if you've got ownership of all the key resources, and how to sack people without giving the slightest damn. Hypocrites the lot of them.'

'Yeh, cash,' said Zelophrayel. 'Its great to make good cash.'

Samael gazed at her again – more of a glare, really, though.

'Face it,' said Abrel. 'They have a more populist position. I think he has learned from you, really. You know, bro. Really.'

Samael looked at Abrel. 'How so?'

'Well, you offer liberties. Perhaps they just happen to offer that many more, now. Liberty to fuck with your neighbour to a degree. If they wanna be rich, fuck the world. Samael preaches freedom says Logos, so we'll have our bloody freedom and get rich. Bit of a pot calling the kettle black, aren't you?'

'Be that as it may,' continued Samael, unperturbed. 'I maintain my case. Logos just sucks in general.'

'I'm hearing you,' said Zelophrayel. 'Might look at starting a business next week, but I'm hearing you.'

Samael glared at her for sure this time. 'What is your bloody problem sis?'

'Oh, nothing,' she replied. 'Just pointing out, like my dear twin, that perhaps someone should look in his own back yard, before he rattles on about his neighbours being total crap.'

He looked at her again, this time a little thoughtfully, and looked at his cards.

'Our liberties are reasonable. I'll maintain that. We don't promote evil, but allow freedoms. Logos is acting like an up himself fool who thinks, as you may say, what's good for the goose is good for the gander. Yet, this apparent moral lesson he might be teaching me, I guess, well............He can stuff up his butt. In the end, they will maintain their agenda I would guess, but they'll never be that popular over time.'

'Mmm,' said Zelophrayel. 'Tell that to the millionaires.'

'Shut up Zelly,' said Samael.

Zelophrayel grinned at her brother.

* * * * *

Garanel was the third of the original 7 Onaphim of Infinity and Damienyel was the 7^th. Garanel, as an angel went, was a mediocre kind of guy. Well, that is what society in general led him to believe about himself, yet who was he kidding. He was a hell of a mediocre kind of guy. Damienyel, on the other hand, was a straight-laced Onaphim, adherent of the wisdom of Logos, and conservative in nature in most respects. Yet, likely their Onaphic kinship in the end, had led them to become good friends of recent decades. Garanel gambled – Damienyel didn't – but hung around him none-the-less. Garanel screwed prostitutes – Damienyel sat patiently in the waiting room – and hung around him regardless. Garanel got drunk – Damienyel remained incredibly sober – but was always at the back of the bar, ready to come forward and drive Garanel home when he was making a nuisance of himself. Logos encouraged in his devotees concern and care for others, and Damienyel had taken upon himself the redemption of his lost brother Garanel in due obedience to Logos' directives. But, frankly, he wasn't having much success.

Recently, Garanel had been seeing a chick of very dubious reputation, who apparently had medical problems down below. They were called Venereal Diseases these days, since first appearing not long prior, and, so it was believed, overactive sexual activity was the culprit. Garanel had been informed of this by Damienyel on many occasions, but was not deterred from screwing the blonde chick with the big tits, cause she was a 'Top Fuck' in the coarse language of the angel.

'She'll give you herpes, bloke,' said Damienyel, inside the apartment of Garanel's in Nadrazon, the silver city.

'I'll get a shot,' said Garanel.

'You think those medicines really will cure that shit long term?' asked Damienyel. ''You know, deaths are rare in the Realm of Infinity, and while it takes a decade or so for God to resurrect the soul, often, so Logos claims, he has expressed the view 'Why should he really, lest people conform with lawfulness and moral behaviour.'

'I guess we're all just a bunch of sinners, then,' replied Garanel.

'Which you should turn from,' chided Damienyel. 'You are Onaphim. The third born of the 7. You really should consider yourself and your position of status more, dear brother.'

'Bite me,' replied Garanel, and fished out yesterdays uneaten fry up and, sitting in just his underwear, turned on the TV set, eating his fry-up with a bottle of beer, and, indeed, farting occasionally, which he was wont to due to his unhealthy diet.

'There are more disgusting angels than you, probably,' said Damienyel. 'But I feel you as their role model will likely go unchallenged for centuries to come.'

'Ayyy,' said Garanel. 'Thanks mate. I appreciate the compliment.'

Damienyel came and, gingerly, sat down on the mucky couch and looked at the TV. 'Porn Star Bitches on Heat?' he queried his brother. 'Your watching Porn Star Bitches on Heat?'

'What's wrong with that?' asked Garanel. 'Every fucker watches Porn Star Bitches on Heat. It's a top rating program.'

'Amongst the lower class, maybe,' replied Damienyel.

Garanel looked at his brother. 'Logos waffle? The classes? How people are graded into certain moral groups, and, usually, the rich are at the top with supposedly the best morals and the most class?'

'Exactly,' replied Damienyel. 'Class attracts wealth and wealth attracts class.'

'While I watch Butt Bandits on the weekend? Is that what your saying?'

'Scum is as scum does,' replied Damienyel.

'Charmed,' replied Garanel, and turned his attention to the television set.

Damienyel looked at the TV for a while. 'They like to suck a lot of cock, I've noticed.'

'It's what gets us off, bro.'

'It's not exactly true romance though.'

'You've been reading too many of those novels as far as I'm concerned,' replied Garanel. 'It's not a blokey thing, mate. You fuck sheilas, and give em a bunch of roses if they've been good. You don't fucken write them love poems declaring bullshit oaths of eternal loyalty, which yous will never fucken keep. I know what you're made of mate.'

'Some of us have standards, Garanel. We treat the fairer sex with dignity and respect.'

'And still fuck em up the arse later on when you've got your marriage certificate. Fucken hypocrites.'

'Very funny,' replied Damienyel. 'Besides. I don't have sexual intercourse with a woman's anus. I use the vagina.'

'Does she blow you?' asked Garanel.

Damienyel remained silent.

'I rest my case,' finished Garanel.

'Humph. With no class,' finished Damienyel.

'Well such is fucking life. Now shut up. I've seen this episode before. The next scene is a killer.'

And so Damienyel watched on, listening to his brothers crude talk, but, strangely, enjoyed his company and slowly relaxed, as he was used to doing, watching 'Porn Star Bitches on Heat' in a rather scruffy apartment, in the heart of Nadrazon, the Silver City, of the Realm of Infinity.

* * * * *

Logos examined the pencil set. Decent quality, original shades of colouring, well presented pencil can, and the price was within budget for a very good profit. Apparently new resin in the pencils made these ones specialities for the art world. Should be perfect. He looked at the formed, ticked of the standard 7 boxes, and signed it. Another produce for 'Divine Logistics' his main Business Enterprise.

'It's good to be successful, Janderrandalel said to him, the female Oraphim who worked as his current secretary. She was the 497^th of the Oraphim of Infinity, well experienced and knowledgeable, a delight to work with, and a keen eye for mistakes, which he valued greatly in his workers. If one thing there indeed was which Logos of Infinity prided himself in, faultlessness was it. He would brook no spelling mistake, no misaligned angle, no shoddily presented or packaged product. Faultless and perfect, as he preached all should be.

'So you like them,' Janderrandalel said.

'R & D have done good work again,' said Logos. 'Another fine product. Meeting the exacting standards we all know lead to prosperity.'

'Gotta love that prosperity doctrine,' she remarked.

He looked at her. 'Are you being sarcastic?'

'Oh, sorry. Forgive me. I mean, we should really all most definitely appreciated your doctrine on prosperity. It is helping so many of us succeed in life.'

'As long as we care for the poor, It is unlimited wealth in my way of thinking,' replied Logos.

'And the poor just need work harder, don't they,' replied Jandy.

'There is no excuse for slovenliness,' replied Logos. 'Early to bed, early to rise, makes an angel healthy, wealthy and wise.'

'Very wise,' she replied. 'I'll handle the paperwork and we'll get the sets off the production line in no time.'

'Excellent Jandy. Thank you.'

'My pleasure,' responded the female Oraphim.

Logos turned in his desk, and looked out on the Silver City of Nadrazon from his skyscraper top floor abode. He was king of the world, wasn't he. The most successful businessman in the world, it seemed – the wealthiest, the classiest, example of example to all and sundry of striving for the best in life. And he was just a little proud in himself because of it. After all, he was doing the right thing. Wasn't he. Setting an example and all. Yes. Definitely yes. Definitely

'I think I will go down to the bar on the bottom floor,' he said to his secretary. 'The day is mostly done, and a small reward for a hard days work won't go amiss.'

'Enjoy yourself,' she replied.

Logos felt good. As he descended in the elevator, he felt good. Life was working out. Working out extremely well, in fact. He was successful, loved, popular and famous. And very, very wealthy. And, so it seemed as of later, becoming quite eligible with his father to entertain a growing number of female compatriots. That was always a good thing.

He reached the ground floor, passed over to the bar, waving to certain other suited figures who acknowledged him, and bought a whiskey with lemonade, and sat down in his favourite seat, enjoying himself. Definitely enjoying himself.

'Hey, handsome,' a voice said out of nowhere.

Logos turned. An extremely good looking lady sat nearby, dressed in a gorgeous red dress, with make-up and a startling figure also.

'Wanna buy me a drink?' she asked him.

'Oh, uh. Yes. Sure. It would be my pleasure,' he replied in good faith.

He returned to her table with a drink, and sat down opposite her.

'Logos, right?' she asked.

'Yes, my dear,' he replied.

'Mmm. Single? Attached?'

'Well, single, I guess. Technically,' he replied a little nervously. She was indeed quite attractive.

'Well, I'm single at the moment. Tell you what. Want to spend a little time and money on some fun with me, hon?'

Logos manhood stood at attention.

'Um, well. Well sure. Whatever. Yes, we could spend some time together.'

'Why don't you invite me home tonight,' she said in one of those quite experienced voices.

'Well, certainly,' he replied.

Later on, when he came out of the bedroom, into the en suite, to shower, as the dirtiness he felt after having his cock sucked twice, and then fucking her up the arse was quite extreme. But she said 'Go for your dirty dreams, sweetie. I'm easy.' And he did. He washed his crotch, and looked at himself in the mirror. What the hell was he doing.

'Sweetie! Are you ready for more?' came her voice from the other room.

He looked at himself, and then, temptation, the oldest devil, said to his heart. 'Hey, your king of the world. May as well enjoy yourself.'

And he looked at himself, and said, slowly, 'Well, yeh. I suppose. I mean, I'm the boss. Aren't I. Fuckit,' he finished, and went off for yet another session for the evening. And nobody was any the wiser.

* * * * *

'You know,' Garanel said to Logos. 'It's not that bad.'

Garanel was sitting in a sex clinic, reading a magazine, chatting with Logos, who had a worried look on his face. He'd just had a blood test and was waiting on results.

'I mean, sure, herpes sucks. It's a bitch of an itch. But don't worry. It's not herpes from what you've said.'

'What is it then?' asked a nervous Logos.

'Probably Gonorrhoea. But don't let the name scare you. Get a shot and the shit clears up after a while. She'll be cool mate. Don't sweat it. I've had heaps of them. My pecker still works fine.'

'Wonderful,' replied an increasingly anxious Logos.

'Of course, it could be something worse. Maybe one of those hepatitis strains. They are killers those fuckers. And that chick you mentioned, I don't know. Name rings a bell. Not sure if she's that kosher down below, mate. You could have problems, but don't sweat it. Most heps are treatable.'

'Most?' asked Logos, looking nervously again at Garanel.

'Calm down, bloke. Get yourself together. Be a man about it. You did the crime, now do the time. That's the breaks on our kinda lifestyle.'

Logos looked at him, and looked straight forward. He was not in a good mood.

Suddenly the nurse appeared, and spoke to him quietly. 'It's just a minor herpes strain. Take this prescription and take all the tablets one a day until the bottle is gone. You should be fine in a few months.'

'See. She's cool,' said Garanel. 'Nothing to worry about.' Logos only looked mildly relieved of his tension.

'Thanks, Garanel. Um, thanks. I'll see you some time.'

'Don't make yourself a stranger,' said Garanel, as Logos disappeared.

The nurse smiled at him and Garanel said 'Newbies. What can you say, ya know?'

The nurse smiled again, and left, and Garanel returned to his magazine, himself waiting on potentially quite concerning results.

* * * * *

'So,' said Aphrayel to Samael. 'Hangin with Abrel and Zelophrayel a lot. Mmm. You enjoying that?' queried the Celestyel, working through a game of solitaire in her abode in Azion, the Golden City of the Realm of Infinity.

'It's fine,' said Samael, nonplussed.

'Right. They good company and all? I mean, your enjoying their stimulating conversation and intelligent insights and all?'

'They're bright enough,' responded Samael casually.

'Mmm. That's good,' said Aphrayel. 'Of course, with friends like them, I suppose you can move on in life and all, now. You know. Like people do. Move on. Let old friend, old acquaintances, old flames be. You know.'

Samael looked squarely at Aphrayel. 'Why, Aphy. Your not jealous, are you?' he asked, a typical Samael grin on his face.

'God forbid!' exclaimed Aphrayel animatedly.

'Why the fuck would she care? She shags me now,' said Sandalphon from the side window, glass of scotch in hand, watching out over the city, his anciently established tradition.

'Yep. And he shags well!' said Aphrayel, rather passionately.

Samael smiled. 'Oh, well you two are quite content then. Mmm. Indeed. Perhaps I should move down below to Nadrazon on a more permanent basis. Make it official with Abby and Zelly.'

'Abby and Zelly. Ooh. Nicknames,' said a surly voiced Aphrayel. 'My, my, my. We are a happy little angel, aren't we. Found our circle of friends, so the oldies can fuck themselves and fuck off. But you never needed us anyway. What, with the stimulating conversation they obviously offer you.'

Samael smiled at that, and put his hands behind his head, and laid back on the couch. 'Oh, they're fine as company. Good mates, really. Quite friendly. Good manners. You know them, though. They've always been pretty strong on respect.'

'Ooh, ooh, ooh. They kiss Samael's butt, I see. Just what our lord and master loves. A new trio for him to entertain his vast imaginations with. Screw the old ones. They were only his besties, for like, a trillion fucken years,' savaged Aphrayel.

'Your acting quite passionately about my newfound glory,' replied Samael. 'Why thank you for appreciating them so much.'

Aphrayel looked at Samael, and cried out 'I give up. He's a faithless bastard.'

'She a good shag?' Sandalphon asked Samael.

'Me and Zelly have a well established friendship. I have been known to be in her bed on very rare occasions, but its not quite like that.'

'Humph,' responded Aphrayel.

'So, you've got a new crew then,' said Sandalphon. 'Look, mate. That's cool with us. Seriously. Aphrayel's just jealous. Yeh, fuck us. Why would you want to hang around that much anymore with old Sandalphon and scrawny Aphrayel anyway?'

Samael smiled. 'I have an issue,' he began.

Aphrayel commented first. 'Oh, do tell. Yet I am sure it has been thoroughly vetted with Abrel and Zelophrayel already, so, you know, what can we possibly have to offer?'

'Aphrayel. You are a unique angel of compelling fidelity,' said Samael. 'Very well, then. I shall introduce yourself and Sandalphon to our circle of friends, and you will find that Abrel and Zelophrayel are actually quite good intentioned angels, and sympathetic with much of our own views on life.'

'Humph,' said Aphrayel, but after a while she softened. 'Well, um, ok. That would be ok, I suppose. Zelly is a bestie forever, of course, and while I've indeed known Abrel forever, I don't really know him personally very well, you know.'

'Their cool,' said Samael. 'I think you'll find yourself getting along with our little circle.'

Aphrayel suddenly smiled at the thought. 'Thank you Samael. Thank you for bringing us into your new world. That much is appreciated.'

'I wasn't neglecting you dear sister and dear brother. But I do have another life. Yet you are welcome to join it. You both are very dear to me.'

'Cheers,' said Sandalphon, and Aphrayel gave him a hug.

'What issues?' asked Aphrayel.

'Logos,' said Samael.

Sandalphon looked out at the Golden City. 'Logos is a mystery. There is a world of theological belief running through him these days. I sense of self-justification and self-determination, in which he is so sure of himself, of his own apparent deity, that he serves God's will regardless of whether he actually serves God's will. That is an established fact in his mind. He knows he is right. He knows his agenda is true. He knows.'

'And therein is the problem,' replied Samael, thinking over Sandalphon's words.

Aphrayel took issue for a second. 'Samael. Are you a moral angel?'

Samael paused from staring at Sandalphon and looked at Aphrayel. 'Moral?' he asked her after a while.

She nodded.

'Why do you ask if I'm moral?'

'What. Do you fear answering the question?'

Sandalphon stared at Samael. 'I mean, you know. When it comes right down to it, if we are true to our agendas and position, as Aphrayel says, aren't we arguing that those views are the moral truths of life?'

'And my point would be that God's teaching defines morality,' said Aphrayel, returning to her card game.

Samael looked at them both, and then sat back in his couch, putting his hands to his head.

'I'm not a moral being,' he said at last. 'It's not about morality. God, I couldn't give a damn about morality, and Logos knows that well. It's just that our freedoms are our rights. They are what we deserve, what we have a fundamental right to express in our lives.'

'Thus you are arguing that they are morally correct,' stated Aphrayel.

'No, I'm.......I'm...........I'm not bloody...........' And then he paused and thought on it. 'Well, uh. Mmm. Yeh. I suppose so. I suppose I am arguing they are correct and, if you insist, moral.'

'Then you have a question of morality ethics with Logos. So why not just be bloody honest and argue that with him and society. If you really think you have been so damn righteous all along, then be honest about it.'

'I'm far from righteous. Many call me a devil for good reason,' responded Samael.

'Part of your charms and character I would think,' commented Samael. 'But many believe what you are saying, you know. It's why you have so many followers and win half of the elections on counsel.'

Samael sat there for a while, mostly unconvinced, and then came out with it. 'Wasn't it supposed to be rebellion? Weren't my views supposed to reflect disobedience to God?'

'But you believe them, don't you?' asked Aphrayel.

'I certainly do,' replied Samael.

'Then you are arguing your beliefs are morally true.'

Samael stared at her, incredulously. 'Well, I guess so,' he finally said.

'So base it on that. This up and coming debate which is catching on out there. That your position is more moral than the position of Logos. And, besides, in the end, God hasn't really condemned your views anyway. He doesn't really comment, but sees if your views prevail from personal observations.'

'I've noticed that too,' said Samael.

'Then run with it,' said Sandalphon. 'And Logos be damned.'

'Logos be damned,' repeated Samael to himself, and sat pondering on that for quite a while that afternoon.

* * * * *

'Fate and Destiny, Destiny and Fate. One you love, one you hate. Choose one now, and don't choose late. Fate or Destiny, Destiny or Fate?'

'Fate will do,' responded Angela to the Jester in front of her throne in Paradise.

'Ooh. So it's fate, Queen of Islam. Are you sure? Fate, in the end, is the true challenger of equality with God, but the only one which will learn its lesson, also, any time soon that is,' said the Jester.

'We have learned our lesson. So tell me of the vice of Fate?'

'A soul, it seems, which sees within, a power infinite, which has no sin. And as within, its self it boasts, is the Lord of Heaven's host.'

'The Logos,' she said.

'The other player, the Lord Jesus Christ of Eternity will parade his deity long beyond Logos' humbling, so thou hast indeed chosen wisely to seek the Children of Fate. A far more adroit decision.'

'Jesus is but a prophet. We know the Lord is one,' said the Queen of Islam. 'And he has no son.'

'No son indeed,' responded the Jester. 'Allah is sonless. Devoid of offspring.'

'Nay, we are his heavenly children. Yea, sons and daughters of God, the children of Islam. But we are not God's very own equal, as if bequeathed from his very loins.'

'Thine knoweth wisdom,' declared the jester Alcazar. 'Your majesty has made her choice.' The jester then whistled in the throneroom of Paradise, and two female jesters came in through the grand entrance, rolling a large marble dish of sorts, with water within.

'Dost thou darest to gaze into the portal of Infinity?' queried the jester.

'I shall,' said Queen Angela of Islam, and descended her royal throne to come and look into the waters. Deep into the waters.

…...............I feel. I feel as if,' said the angel Zelophryael. Is if it is not Destiny which leads us, but something different. Some other spirit. A fate, Abrel. Not a destiny.'

'And who is daughter Fate?' asked Abrel, smirking.

Zelophrayel looked into her heart, and the dreamscape she had known since youth. 'She is not daughter Destiny. She is not daughter Destiny,' she repeated.

'Then we must be the Children of Fate,' said Abrel.

And Zelophrayel, looked at him, and slowly nodded, and pondered that much of the remainder of the day.

Queen Angela left off looking into the waters, as the vision passed, and righted herself, thinking.

'Has the queen seen her vision true?' asked Alcazar the Jester.

'The Queen's vision is her own business,' she responded. 'Now go and summon Mohammed for me. I will have words with him again.'

'As you wish my queen,' and the Jester danced away, off to another part of the Palace of Paradise, seeking Mohammed, and the will of his Queen, Queen of Paradise, Angela, daughter of heaven, Child of Allah, the Most High God of Infinite Glory.

Chapter Two

'Yo. Sandalphon. I do believe you haven't praised God in the last 12 billion years.'

Sandalphon, in the cafeteria of Azion, turned and looked at who was speaking. 'Number 2,' he said. 'What's up your arse?'

Shamrenaphon, the secondborn of the 7 original Oraphim Angels of Eternity, number 2 to indeed Sandalphon, chuckled. 'Sandy. Bite me.'

'Heh heh heh,' responded Sandalphon.

'We have a gathering. Of Onaphim in the throne room, and we were wondering if you wanted to come along and praise God with us for a while.'

'Logos stooges, huh,' replied Sandalphon.

'If you insist,' said Shamrenaphon. 'He loves you, you know. Logos. God too. We are here for you, brother. We love you, you know.'

'Does this particular praise session have any alcohol?' asked Sandalphon.

Shamrenaphon gave him one of those looks.

'Right. Naked ladies perhaps?'

'Sandalphon. We do not go to worship God and indulge in fornication at the same time. It is not exactly appropriate.'

'You don't know what yer missing,' replied Sandalphon.

'Come on,' said Shamrenaphon. 'Even a devil like you needs to get around and pay your dues eventually.'

'Fine,' moaned Sandalphon. 'I'll be there next year. Late. Perhaps.'

'Sandalphon!' said Shamrenaphon seriously.

'For fuck's sake,' said Sandalphon after his breath, indicated acceptance by nodding, and followed Shamrenaphon out of the cafeteria to the throneroom of Azion.

There were 12 other Onaphim angels present when the arrived. Kalel and Donel, both respectively the 4^th and 5^th born of the 7 Onaphim angels, the other 5 Oraphim of Kaleriaphon, the 3^rd born of the Oraphim, Bastraphon, the 4^th born of the Oraphim, Zanaphon, the 5^th born of the Oraphim, Ternaphon the 6^th born of the Oraphim and Divraphon, the 7^th born of the Oraphim. Apart from that, Michael, Gabriel & Raphael, the first 3 of the 3^rd group of 7 Angels of the Onaphim, the Seraphim, were also there, as well as the two female Celestyels, Desrayel, the 4^th born of the Celestyels and, finally, Qadrayel, the 5^th born of the Celstyels.

'So you found him,' said Kaleriaphon. 'That's good. He can show his long due love to Jehovah and worship him in spirit and in truth.'

'Founds fab Kal,' said Sandalphon to Kaleriaphon.

'I do hope you put your whole heart into it,' continued Kaleriaphon. 'God needs to be shown our purest love and devotion. We owe him so much you know. For everything, really.'

'He's so right,' said Qadrayel. 'God is the source of all love and goodness and good things. For an angel to praise God there is something right happening in the world.'

'Yep,' replied Sandalphon. 'Gotcha Qads.'

'We often take turns making a solo,' said Bastraphon. 'It is good for God to examine each of us in praise, and it is a way we present ourselves to him for his inspection. He looks into our heart and impart his own love and spirit the closer we draw to him. Part of our life has always been to draw close to God and show him our love and fear of his holiness. It's what its all about brother.'

'And to love him so much,' said Qadrael. 'I mean, you can't help but feel it here, Sandy. The pure and good spirit which abides with Yahweh. It is – unbelievable.'

Sandalphon looked at the whole host of devotees and turned to Shamrenaphon. 'Uh, are you really sure I'm what you are looking for?' he queried. 'Sure, God's grouse and all that, but I'm not sure if this is my scene, bloke.'

'You'll do fine,' said Shamrenaphon smiling.

'God will touch you,' said Qadrael. 'He'll do a special work in your life. A miracle, really. Something amazing.'

'We'll pray for you as well,' said Kaleriaphon.

'Go nuts,' said Sandalphon. 'Can't get enough of those prayers.'

And so the praising began, and when it came around to Sandalphon's time to sing, he stood forward, looked up to God and, slowly, turned to look at all the other zealots, eyes closed, looking upwards, hands raised in the air, and he came to his sense.

'Fuck this for a joke,' he said, and, carefully, extracted his way to the exit.

But Kaleriaphon caught him. 'You don't want to get yet, brother. We have so much more praising to do. And there will be a sermon from Michael.'

'Uh, shit. You know, I'd love to stay around, but Samael got his balls stuck in some nasty business at the moment. Another time, kapiche.'

Kaleriaphon stood there, almost about to put his hand out to prevent Sandalphon leaving, but sighed, and drew back, as Sandalphon departed.

As he climbed down, and back to the real world, all that Sandalphon could say to himself as he made his way to Aphrayel's abode was 'For heaven's fucking sake.'

* * * * *

'Yeh, I know what your saying,' replied Garanel to Sandalphons statement.

'I mean, for fuck's sake, their lunatics,' exclaimed the firstborn of the Oraphim.

'Perhaps you shouldn't be so hard on the zealots,' commented Dolphyel, second-born of the 7 Onaphim. 'They are only doing what they think is right.'

'They are fucking nuts,' responded Sandalphon.

'I like them,' said Elendayel, seventhborn of the Celestyels. 'Our brothers and sisters are very devoted to God in a very strong way now, and I know that is difficult to understand Sandy, but they are more friendly than ever, you know.'

'They are mind controlled,' said Sandalphon strongly. 'Not even servants of God. Puppets of Logos – nothing more.'

'I think I see Sandalphon's point,' said Samael. 'Dear Elendayel, they don't appear to be themselves. Like a new spirit has gotten hold of them and made them into something their not. Sure, it looks as it is all love and kisses, but is it rational? Is it even normal, you know. That sort of way?'

'I suppose I see your point,' said Elendayel, looking at her cards in the match between herself and Aphrayel, 'But I like them. No, I don't think I want to join them. Not saying that at all. But I find them very hospitable and easy to get along with quite frankly.'

'Very sweet. Like Ice cream,' said Sandalphon. 'But eat too much too quickly and you'll get a god-awful brain freeze damn quick I tell you.'

Elendayel chuckled on Sandalphon's comment.

'The question I would ask,' continued Samael. 'Is this going to grow? Is Logos in expansion mode and is he looking for recruits? And if he is content in his brainwashing activities, then perhaps we should consider our own position? I mean, if the tide turns, Logos wins a high majority, we will be at the beck and call of endless requests for praise sessions, as Sandalphon puts it, and rebuked for every fowl word or thought that crosses our lips and mind. Are you sure you want that Elendayel?'

'Don't know. Perhaps we should be holy,' she replied. 'But I see your point. Not, I think, the kind of life I ultimately want either.'

'Then join Pax Libertarius,' said Sandalphon. 'You've been told for a few weeks now about it. It might come down to one or the other, sweetie. I don't think solo girl will survive long in what's brewing up out there, you know.'

Elendayel looked seriously at Sandalphon for a moment, and then returned to look at her cards. 'I'm still thinking that over, ok. Give me time. But possibly. Possibly.'

'Good to hear,' said Sandalphon, and turned to look out the window, sipping on his scotch.

Elendayel sat quietly for a while, then, playing cards with Aphrayel, and Sandalphon stood gazing out the window. Samael looked on. The conversation had temporarily run dry.

'Garanel,' said Aphrayel. 'Have you proposed to that blonde angel you are dating yet?'

'Jellaqwai? Hell no,' replied Garanel, and scratched his crotch for a few moments.

'Got the itch, have you?' queried Sandalphon to Garanel.

Garanel looked at his brother. 'Jellaqwai is known to be somewhat frisky. I admit it. What, you gonna preach at me? Sandalphon has already joined the light brigade is it?'

Sandalphon smiled at his brother, but didn't comment.

'Some angels come across as all hugs and kisses,' said Aphayel. 'But its with every tom, dick and harry that they are all hugs and kisses. The kinds of diseases venereally these days are getting worse and worse all the time.'

'The more we practice sexual immorality, the more it builds up. The Vds become more concentrated with the more partners we have. We've all got our sins, you know. And the more we fuck around with our privates, the more explicit shit our privates have to deal with. And it adds up after a while.'

'Sure you've seen your fair deal of hot vagina,' said Garanel, glaring at Sandalphon.

Sandalphon sipped on his scotch, but did not comment.

'He doesn't. That much,' said Aphrayel. 'A few lovers. Not many. Sticks to the same patches forever. Same old pieces of tail for Sandy.'

'You should know sweetie,' responded Sandalphon.

'That's just it,' replied Aphrayel. 'I do. Don't object to you being in my bed because of it.'

Samael found that interesting.

'I don't fuck around as much as you might think. And with new girls these days, I practice safely,' said Garanel. 'I mean, I'm not completely an idiot.'

'Perhaps a bit too much, though,' said Aphrayel. 'Father likes intimacy shared with very few.'

Garanel looked at the angels in the room. 'For fuck's sake. Lighten up, ok. What, are you guys the new holy rollers or something?'

'I don't think its exactly holiness we give much of a damn about,' said Samael. 'More of the realities of life. What actually stuffs you up in the end. We have, well, discussed these ideas a lot. Aphrayel myself and Sandalphon have had long discussions on issues of life and problems associated with it. Realities, though. The point of the morals, it seems, is just more of a security blanket to protect from some of the effects of those harsher realities.'

'Yeh, well. Well that I can accept bro,' said Garanel. 'It does pay to be informed.'

'Hang around,' said Aphrayel. 'You might learn something.'

'Then explain Pax Libertarius,' said Garanel.

'Well its not called Pax Idioticus,' smiled Samael. Sandalphon and Aphrayel both chuckled on that one.

'Is there a Pax Fuckaroundusabituswithoutgettingintotoomuchshittus then?' asked Garanel.

'We'll make one. Just for you,' smiled Elendayel.

'Your all heart,' replied Garanel.

'Indeed she is,' commented Samael.

And they partied on, and the mood was good, and Pax Libertarius gained momentum.

* * * * *

Pieradore looked at the scroll. 'The Glory of Xanth!' A majestic work, he thought to himself. 'Xanth shall be my heart,' he exclaimed out loud,' but nobody in the library of the Golden City was around to hear his words. Pieradore was the 56^th of the 70 Onaphim angels, the 7^th and last of the 7 Abraphim angels. And he was a writer. It was what he liked doing, and was popular and successful at it. And he had a new creation. A fantasy world called 'Xanth'. Xanth was full of magical creatures, where everyone had a magical talent, and they went on adventures and quests, and solved riddles and puzzles and fell into dangerous encounters of all kind. And that is how his world would gradually unfold and come to be.

'Heaven's above, Pieradore. I have been looking for you everywhere.'

Pieradore looked up. It was Zelophraye. 'Why have you been looking for me Zelly?'

'Oh,' she replied, sitting down opposite him. 'No particular reason. It is just that we must make an effort with our brothers to show them that feminine touch once in a while. The Celestyels have always had that in mind. And I wanted to say how proud I am of you for all the books you have been writing so long, and to ask about this new 'Xanth' project of yours I have heard whispers of.'

Pieradore passed her the scroll and she looked at it.

'The Glory of Xanth? Brilliant,' she said. And she sat there for half an hour reading it. 'Great idea,' she finally said. 'Everyone having a magic talent. But you should give someone a talent that is hard to find when they are young, if they all find their talents at a young age. Some character who must quest to find their talent.'

'I am thinking maybe Bink or Chameleon for that,' said Pieradore. 'I haven't decided which one yet.'

'Bink looks like a great character,' said Zelophrayel. 'Start with him. Yes, yes start with him.'

'Then that is what I shall do,' replied Pieradore. 'How about, 'A Talent for Chameleon?'

'A Spell for Chameleon,' replied Zelophrayel.

'A Spell for Chameleon, you say?' asked Pieradore.

Zelophrayel nodded. 'A Spell for Chameleon.'

'So be it dear sister, that shall be the foundation of Xanth. A Spell for Chameleon.' And Zelophrayel laughed, and Pieradore smiled at his sister's joy.

* * * * *

'Davros. You are a juvenile,' said Brentonios, the fourthborn of the 7 Ozraphim angels.

'Forgive me,' replied Davros, the sixthborn of the 7 Ozraphim angels. 'But I get it all from you older brother.'

'Ha. Good one,' replied Brentonios. 'So what have you been up to? It's been a while.'

'Designing weird new metal designs,' replied Davros the architect of splendid creations. 'This for example,' he said, showing a strange looking metallic object.

'What is it?' asked Brentonios.

'I call it a Dalek. They are my faithful robot servants. They fight the Doctor,' replied Davros.

'Doctor who?' asked Brentonios.

'Something like that,' snickered Davros. 'I have already designed an army of Daleks. I have a chess set based on them. The Gold versus the Black Daleks.'

'You are endlessly creative,' replied Brentonios. 'Always a strength of the Ozraphim. 'Good with our hands and making things.'

'Our specialty I think,' replied Davros. 'What the Ozraphim perhaps represent best in the Realm of Infinity.'

'Mmm,' commented Brentonios. 'Well, how about that then?'

'How about what?' asked Davros, examining his Dalek.

'How about we represent in the Realm of Infinity. As an official community. Unite the Ozraphim of Nadrazon with a Vision of the Ozraphim.'

Davros put down his figure and looked at his older brother. 'Are you serious? Besides, we have an Ozraphim council.'

'Which never meets and does bugger all in the name of the Ozraphim. Perhaps we could change that? Show some class. Show some Infinite class. Mean something. Be something. Be a people,' said Brentonios.

'I don't know. It might work. What, are you the new Samael or something?' said Davros.

'No. All 7 of us. All 7 of the Onaphim Ozraphim. Take our guardianship over the council jobs seriously, and actually do something now. Make something of a name for ourselves. Why not? We've nothing much else to do which is new anymore? Get ourselves an agenda or something.'

'I have an agenda,' said Davros, looking at his figure. 'But I am listening brother. I am listening.'

'Well let's all get together. The 7 Ozraphim. And think about it. Have a chat. Do something, if you know what I mean?'

'Mmm,' replied Davros, looking at the glint in his brother's eyes. A very interesting idea indeed.

* * * * *

Bastraphon, the fourthborn of the 7 Oraphim Angels and Zanaphon the fifthborn of the 7 Oraphim angels, where on the outskirts of the Golden City, near the playing fields, having a quiet drink, watching the world go by.

'Why don't we make up a new sport?' suggested Bastraphon. 'Something new to do.

'What shall we call it?' asked Zanaphon.

'Oraball,' replied Bastraphon. 'A game invented by the Oraphim for the Oraphim.'

'Sounds good. What are the rules?' asked Zanaphon.

'We make a ball. Fill it with air, and kick it around a field. There are three teams. The object is to kick the ball, and you can't touch it with your hand, into the centre of the field, where there is a large block of stone. If you hit the stone, you score a point, and then the ball is thrown outside the field, and the team who scores gets to kick the ball back onto the field to restart the game. At the end of the game, the team with the most points wins,' said Bastraphon.

'Sounds interesting,' said Zanaphon. 'Perhaps you could have attacking players and players who defend the rock.'

'Brilliant,' said Bastraphon, but sighed. 'But we'll probably never do it. We're just too lazy to bother.'

'Ain't that the truth,' replied Zanaphon. 'Stil, whatcha going to do huh?'

They sat there, drinking, and smoking, looking at the world going by.

'It would give us something to do, though,' said Bastraphon. 'Work is work, and there isn't much new in that. A decent sport. Gives us a new focus on things.'

'True,' said Zanaphon.

'We could form Oraball leagues. Make it a big competition in the Realm of Infinity,' said Bastraphon.

'That we could,' agreed Zanaphon.

'Draw crowds. Form teams. Make it an official sport of the Oraphim. It could be huge,' said Bastraphon.

'Could be,' agreed Zanaphon.

'But we'll probably never do it,' said Bastraphon.

'Too much work,' said Zanaphon.

'Yep, too much work,' agreed Bastraphon, and sighed.

They sat there, drinking, and smoking, looking at the world going by.

'I'll draw up the rules tonight, and we'll start recruiting players tomorrow,' said Bastraphon.

'Right behind you buddy,' said Zanaphon.

They watched the world go by, but there were smiles on both Oraphim angel faces. Definitely smiles.

The End