The Angels Saga

Gloria Excelsia

by

Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

Copyright 6179 SC

STORIES:

The Angelfire

The Book of Truth

Gloria Excelsia

The Heart of God

The Birth of Meludiel

Ariel and the Wolf

The Challenge

In The Beginning

Life at Home

Metatron’s Gambit

Metatron and Logos: War of the Worlds

Logos and Memra: A Day in the Life of

12 O'Clock

Aurora Dreaming

The Play

The Garden of Eden in the Heart of Heaven

The Fate of Destiny

Deborah the Dinosaur

John:  Seer of Visions

The Book of Destiny

Magenta the Muse

Samael and Aphrayel: The Agenda

The Rock and the Harlequinn

Gaia's Garden

Janie Chaos

Ark of Destiny

Scrolls

The Children of Heaven

Laps

Girl Talk

Light and Dark

Girl Talk 2

Brave Hearts

History

Chaos and the Witch

Chaos Games

Lucy Magic

The House of Other Things

THE ANGELS SAGA

PROLOGUE

GEOCITIES

Even before the Angelfire was the Geocities. But their tales are for another day......

ANGELFIRE

The Angelfire

Genesis Chapter 1 בְּרֵאשִׁית

א  בְּרֵאשִׁית, בָּרָא אֱלֹהִים, אֵת הַשָּׁמַיִם, וְאֵת הָאָרֶץ.

1 In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.

ב  וְהָאָרֶץ, הָיְתָה תֹהוּ וָבֹהוּ, וְחֹשֶׁךְ, עַל-פְּנֵי תְהוֹם; וְרוּחַ אֱלֹהִים, מְרַחֶפֶת עַל-פְּנֵי הַמָּיִם.

2 Now the earth was unformed and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep; and the spirit of God hovered over the face of the waters.

ג  וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים, יְהִי אוֹר; וַיְהִי-אוֹר.

3 And God said: 'Let there be light.' And there was light.

ד  וַיַּרְא אֱלֹהִים אֶת-הָאוֹר, כִּי-טוֹב; וַיַּבְדֵּל אֱלֹהִים, בֵּין הָאוֹר וּבֵין הַחֹשֶׁךְ.

4 And God saw the light, that it was good; and God divided the light from the darkness.

ה  וַיִּקְרָא אֱלֹהִים לָאוֹר יוֹם, וְלַחֹשֶׁךְ קָרָא לָיְלָה; וַיְהִי-עֶרֶב וַיְהִי-בֹקֶר, יוֹם אֶחָד.  {פ}

5 And God called the light Day, and the darkness He called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, one day. {P}

ו  וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים, יְהִי רָקִיעַ בְּתוֹךְ הַמָּיִם, וִיהִי מַבְדִּיל, בֵּין מַיִם לָמָיִם.

6 And God said: 'Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters.'

ז  וַיַּעַשׂ אֱלֹהִים, אֶת-הָרָקִיעַ, וַיַּבְדֵּל בֵּין הַמַּיִם אֲשֶׁר מִתַּחַת לָרָקִיעַ, וּבֵין הַמַּיִם אֲשֶׁר מֵעַל לָרָקִיעַ; וַיְהִי-כֵן.

7 And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament; and it was so.

ח  וַיִּקְרָא אֱלֹהִים לָרָקִיעַ, שָׁמָיִם; וַיְהִי-עֶרֶב וַיְהִי-בֹקֶר, יוֹם שֵׁנִי.  {פ}

8 And God called the firmament Heaven. And there was evening and there was morning, a second day. {P}

ט  וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים, יִקָּווּ הַמַּיִם מִתַּחַת הַשָּׁמַיִם אֶל-מָקוֹם אֶחָד, וְתֵרָאֶה, הַיַּבָּשָׁה; וַיְהִי-כֵן.

9 And God said: 'Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear.' And it was so.

י  וַיִּקְרָא אֱלֹהִים לַיַּבָּשָׁה אֶרֶץ, וּלְמִקְוֵה הַמַּיִם קָרָא יַמִּים; וַיַּרְא אֱלֹהִים, כִּי-טוֹב.

10 And God called the dry land Earth, and the gathering together of the waters called He Seas; and God saw that it was good.

יא  וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים, תַּדְשֵׁא הָאָרֶץ דֶּשֶׁא עֵשֶׂב מַזְרִיעַ זֶרַע, עֵץ פְּרִי עֹשֶׂה פְּרִי לְמִינוֹ, אֲשֶׁר זַרְעוֹ-בוֹ עַל-הָאָרֶץ; וַיְהִי-כֵן.

11 And God said: 'Let the earth put forth grass, herb yielding seed, and fruit-tree bearing fruit after its kind, wherein is the seed thereof, upon the earth.' And it was so.

יב  וַתּוֹצֵא הָאָרֶץ דֶּשֶׁא עֵשֶׂב מַזְרִיעַ זֶרַע, לְמִינֵהוּ, וְעֵץ עֹשֶׂה-פְּרִי אֲשֶׁר זַרְעוֹ-בוֹ, לְמִינֵהוּ; וַיַּרְא אֱלֹהִים, כִּי-טוֹב.

12 And the earth brought forth grass, herb yielding seed after its kind, and tree bearing fruit, wherein is the seed thereof, after its kind; and God saw that it was good.

יג  וַיְהִי-עֶרֶב וַיְהִי-בֹקֶר, יוֹם שְׁלִישִׁי.  {פ}

13 And there was evening and there was morning, a third day. {P}

יד  וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים, יְהִי מְאֹרֹת בִּרְקִיעַ הַשָּׁמַיִם, לְהַבְדִּיל, בֵּין הַיּוֹם וּבֵין הַלָּיְלָה; וְהָיוּ לְאֹתֹת וּלְמוֹעֲדִים, וּלְיָמִים וְשָׁנִים.

14 And God said: 'Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days and years;

טו  וְהָיוּ לִמְאוֹרֹת בִּרְקִיעַ הַשָּׁמַיִם, לְהָאִיר עַל-הָאָרֶץ; וַיְהִי-כֵן.

15 and let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth.' And it was so.

טז  וַיַּעַשׂ אֱלֹהִים, אֶת-שְׁנֵי הַמְּאֹרֹת הַגְּדֹלִים:  אֶת-הַמָּאוֹר הַגָּדֹל, לְמֶמְשֶׁלֶת הַיּוֹם, וְאֶת-הַמָּאוֹר הַקָּטֹן לְמֶמְשֶׁלֶת הַלַּיְלָה, וְאֵת הַכּוֹכָבִים.

16 And God made the two great lights: the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night; and the stars.

יז  וַיִּתֵּן אֹתָם אֱלֹהִים, בִּרְקִיעַ הַשָּׁמָיִם, לְהָאִיר, עַל-הָאָרֶץ.

17 And God set them in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth,

יח  וְלִמְשֹׁל, בַּיּוֹם וּבַלַּיְלָה, וּלְהַבְדִּיל, בֵּין הָאוֹר וּבֵין הַחֹשֶׁךְ; וַיַּרְא אֱלֹהִים, כִּי-טוֹב.

18 and to rule over the day and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness; and God saw that it was good.

יט  וַיְהִי-עֶרֶב וַיְהִי-בֹקֶר, יוֹם רְבִיעִי.  {פ}

19 And there was evening and there was morning, a fourth day. {P}

כ  וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים--יִשְׁרְצוּ הַמַּיִם, שֶׁרֶץ נֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה; וְעוֹף יְעוֹפֵף עַל-הָאָרֶץ, עַל-פְּנֵי רְקִיעַ הַשָּׁמָיִם.

20 And God said: 'Let the waters swarm with swarms of living creatures, and let fowl fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven.'

כא  וַיִּבְרָא אֱלֹהִים, אֶת-הַתַּנִּינִם הַגְּדֹלִים; וְאֵת כָּל-נֶפֶשׁ הַחַיָּה הָרֹמֶשֶׂת אֲשֶׁר שָׁרְצוּ הַמַּיִם לְמִינֵהֶם, וְאֵת כָּל-עוֹף כָּנָף לְמִינֵהוּ, וַיַּרְא אֱלֹהִים,כִּי-טוֹב.

21 And God created the great sea-monsters, and every living creature that creepeth, wherewith the waters swarmed, after its kind, and every winged fowl after its kind; and God saw that it was good.

כב  וַיְבָרֶךְ אֹתָם אֱלֹהִים, לֵאמֹר:  פְּרוּ וּרְבוּ, וּמִלְאוּ אֶת-הַמַּיִם בַּיַּמִּים, וְהָעוֹף, יִרֶב בָּאָרֶץ.

22 And God blessed them, saying: 'Be fruitful, and multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and let fowl multiply in the earth.'

כג  וַיְהִי-עֶרֶב וַיְהִי-בֹקֶר, יוֹם חֲמִישִׁי.  {פ}

23 And there was evening and there was morning, a fifth day. {P}

כד  וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים, תּוֹצֵא הָאָרֶץ נֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה לְמִינָהּ, בְּהֵמָה וָרֶמֶשׂ וְחַיְתוֹ-אֶרֶץ, לְמִינָהּ; וַיְהִי-כֵן.

24 And God said: 'Let the earth bring forth the living creature after its kind, cattle, and creeping thing, and beast of the earth after its kind.' And it was so.

כה  וַיַּעַשׂ אֱלֹהִים אֶת-חַיַּת הָאָרֶץ לְמִינָהּ, וְאֶת-הַבְּהֵמָה לְמִינָהּ, וְאֵת כָּל-רֶמֶשׂ הָאֲדָמָה, לְמִינֵהוּ; וַיַּרְא אֱלֹהִים, כִּי-טוֹב.

25 And God made the beast of the earth after its kind, and the cattle after their kind, and every thing that creepeth upon the ground after its kind; and God saw that it was good.

כו  וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים, נַעֲשֶׂה אָדָם בְּצַלְמֵנוּ כִּדְמוּתֵנוּ; וְיִרְדּוּ בִדְגַת הַיָּם וּבְעוֹף הַשָּׁמַיִם, וּבַבְּהֵמָה וּבְכָל-הָאָרֶץ, וּבְכָל-הָרֶמֶשׂ, הָרֹמֵשׂ עַל-הָאָרֶץ.

26 And God said: 'Let us make man in our image, after our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.'

כז  וַיִּבְרָא אֱלֹהִים אֶת-הָאָדָם בְּצַלְמוֹ, בְּצֶלֶם אֱלֹהִים בָּרָא אֹתוֹ:  זָכָר וּנְקֵבָה, בָּרָא אֹתָם.

27 And God created man in His own image, in the image of God created He him; male and female created He them.

כח  וַיְבָרֶךְ אֹתָם, אֱלֹהִים, וַיֹּאמֶר לָהֶם אֱלֹהִים פְּרוּ וּרְבוּ וּמִלְאוּ אֶת-הָאָרֶץ, וְכִבְשֻׁהָ; וּרְדוּ בִּדְגַת הַיָּם, וּבְעוֹף הַשָּׁמַיִם, וּבְכָל-חַיָּה, הָרֹמֶשֶׂת עַל-הָאָרֶץ.

28 And God blessed them; and God said unto them: 'Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that creepeth upon the earth.'

כט  וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים, הִנֵּה נָתַתִּי לָכֶם אֶת-כָּל-עֵשֶׂב זֹרֵעַ זֶרַע אֲשֶׁר עַל-פְּנֵי כָל-הָאָרֶץ, וְאֶת-כָּל-הָעֵץ אֲשֶׁר-בּוֹ פְרִי-עֵץ, זֹרֵעַ זָרַע:  לָכֶם יִהְיֶה,לְאָכְלָה.

29 And God said: 'Behold, I have given you every herb yielding seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed--to you it shall be for food;

ל  וּלְכָל-חַיַּת הָאָרֶץ וּלְכָל-עוֹף הַשָּׁמַיִם וּלְכֹל רוֹמֵשׂ עַל-הָאָרֶץ, אֲשֶׁר-בּוֹ נֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה, אֶת-כָּל-יֶרֶק עֵשֶׂב, לְאָכְלָה; וַיְהִי-כֵן.

30 and to every beast of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, and to every thing that creepeth upon the earth, wherein there is a living soul, [I have given] every green herb for food.' And it was so.

לא  וַיַּרְא אֱלֹהִים אֶת-כָּל-אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה, וְהִנֵּה-טוֹב מְאֹד; וַיְהִי-עֶרֶב וַיְהִי-בֹקֶר, יוֹם הַשִּׁשִּׁי.  {פ}

31 And God saw every thing that He had made, and, behold, it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day. {P}

IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE ANGELFIRE. THE ANGELFIRE WAS THE POOL OF SPIRITUAL FIRE FROM WHICH GOD DREW FORTH HIS ANGELIC CHILDREN. METATRON WAS FIRSTBORN, AND THE 7 ARCHANGELS CAME LATER, URIEL, RAPHAEL, RAGUEL, MICHAEL, SARAQAEL, GABRIEL & REMIEL. AND THE CHERUBIM SEMYAZA AND OTHERS WERE ALSO DRAWN FORTH, INCLUDING AZAZEL AND SAMAEL. BUT ALL WAS DRAWN FORTH FROM THE ANGELFIRE – THE DIVINE FIRE AND GLORY OF GOD FROM WHICH ULTIMATE CREATION WAS BORN. GOD DELIGHTED IN THE ANGELFIRE, AND ITS MYSTERY AND BEAUTY. AND WHEN HE HAD WORKED HIS HEART'S IMAGINATION FROM ITS MELTING POT OF GLORY, HEAVEN HAD BEEN BORN, AND THE CHILDREN OF DESTINY HAD BEGUN...............................

'Michael, Michael, Michael,' said Metatron. 'You are not the highest of angels in our hierarchy. Why dost thou seek the glory?'

'I shall tell you what is written in the Holy Book of Prophecy of the World to Come,' replied the Archangel Michael. 'And these are the names of the holy angels who watch. Uriel, one of the holy angels, who is over the world and over Tartarus. Raphael, one of the holy angels, who is over the spirits of men. Raguel, one of the holy angels who takes vengeance on the world of the luminaries. Michael, one of the holy angels, to wit, he that is set over the best part of mankind and over chaos. Saraqael, one of the holy angels, who is set over the spirits, who sin in the spirit. Gabriel, one of the holy angels, who is over Paradise and the serpents and the Cherubim. Remiel, one of the holy angels, whom God set over those who rise.' Michael glared at Metatron. 'I have the authority in time, dear older brother. God has granted it to me in things to come and things yet to be.'

'Yet he speaks of this Callodyn who shall be born one day, and this Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly, who, minor Cherubim they will be, shall usurp thine glory. The woman destiny has this plotted in her heart, he doth tell me.'

'The contest and competition shall indeed come in time,' replied Michael. 'But Israel shall be firstborn and rule in strength a while.'

'Yet why dost thou seeketh the glory now? Can you not exhibit some holy patience. Good things come to those who wait, dear younger brother, and I am the glory of God at this time. Can ye not be patient. Your glory shall come. Be patient.'

'I am only plotting ahead,' replied Michael. 'Besides, I am worried about Semyaza and his cronies. That Cherubim is starting to become troublesome. He needs dealing with. Saraqael is of the firm opinion he should be punished, and I am gathering influence to put him in his place I do think.'

'Azazel will war with you,' replied Metatron. 'He does not like you very much I doth think.'

'No. He doesn't, does he,' replied Michael thoughtfully. 'But I shall cross that bridge when I come to it. I shan't usurp thine authority older brother. But I shall teach some angels a thing or two, I do think.'

'Do as ye must,' replied Metatron, looking down at the chess board.

'I worry of Samael also,' said Michael. 'His sarcasm is increasingly wicked these days. He should be taught a lesson or two as well.'

'So you are the self appointed judge of the living and the dead, are you?' Metatron asked Michael.

'No,' said Michael. 'But the Lord acts in justice, so I shall also.'

'I sense – arrogance,' replied Metatron. 'The Firstborn of the Seraphim, I sense arrogance in him.'

'He's terribly arrogant,' said Gabriel, interjecting.

'He's up his arse,' said Samael, showing into view behind Gabriel.

'Hello – Scum,' said Michael to Samael.

'Scum, is it?' asked Samael, and sat down in the eating hall of the Angelic Home of Heaven.

'Yes. A fitting title for one lacking morality,' replied Michael. 'And Samael the Angel has no morality.'

'I learned it all from Azazel,' replied Samael. 'He is a fearsome one, who does not tolerate minor Seraphim usurpations.'

'Hah!' exclaimed Michael. 'The Ophanin believes me arrogant. That is rich.'

'He might have a point,' replied Gabriel. 'Azazel just has a rich sense of humour. Sarcasm, as they call it.'

'The angels of heaven prefer order and sobriety,' replied Michael. 'Not comedians.'

'Lighten up,' replied Samael, and lit a cigarette.

'Another fowl habit,' said Michael about the cigarette. 'They smell, and cause problems with the lungs breathing after a long indulgence.'

'I can cope,' smiled Samael. 'I take periods of abstinence.'

'Like abstaining from wanking?' asked Michael. 'You like the feeling of orgasm in your loins when you jerk your gherkin.'

'What else is it for?' asked Samael.

'It – has a purpose,' replied Michael. 'God will disclose it one day. You sin against your own body doing that. I am sure of it.'

'Yada, yada, yada,' replied Samael. 'The Israelite thinks himself holy. The clan of the Torah worshippers have standards. Forgive me for being such a sinner,' said Samael sarcastically.

'Torah is the will of God,' stated Michael.

'Which Raphael made up,' said Samael. 'To try and control all of us with his sense of spiritual decorum. God gave us 5 rules, and no more. And I keep the 5, so fuck off with your so called morality.'

Michael glared at Samael, but left it at that.

'Michael. You are very strict,' said Metatron. 'Fit in some ways for rulership, but it puts our angelic brotherhood off a lot of the time. Lighten up brother.'

'Humph,' said Michael, and stood, and walked out of the eating hall.

'No sense of humour,' said Samael, puffing on his cigarette. Metatron just gazed at him in response.

'So, what have you been up to Mettie?' asked Samael.

'This and that,' replied the Angel.

'Yeh, this and that. I do a lot of that. Wanking around, being a devil. It's fun. Don't take life too seriously, and all that yada yada yada. Know what I mean.'

Metatron sighed. 'I think I do.'

'Besides, your a dickhead,' said Michael, coming back into the room.

'I'm a dickhead?' said Samael. 'Torah Kid calls me a dickhead? The King of Squares calls me a dickhead? Hah! That's rich?'

'He's more a circle,' said Gabriel. 'Or what he likes to think of himself. Well rounded.'

'A small circle,' said Samael. 'Not much life in it. It circumvents a ridiculous code of self control with no real living fun. Torah is for fools.'

'It guides us and creates a holy life,' said Michael. 'It's strictness guards against infidelity to God.'

'I don't think God minds our freedoms that much,' replied Samael. 'He only gave us 5 rules, and left it at that. Just like Michael to want more. Just like the legalist.'

'It helps him order his life,' said Metatron.

'Probably the most disorderly then, without the extra rules, I think,' said Samael. 'Needs it all just to keep his ego in check.'

'That's not true,' retorted Michael hotly. 'I like to comply with calm lawfulness. So that people may find peace.'

'People want to live a little,' said Samael.

'You are a wild man. You will never understand,' said Michael.

'I follow the five. And the Locus of my heart knows exactly where it is at each time in all my decisions.'

'I doubt that,' said Michael.

'My Locus is all powerful, and beautiful,' said Samael. 'She is the champion of my universe.'

'She?' asked Michael. 'What does that mean?'

'Softer. Tender,' replied Samael.

'Hardly you, now is it,' grinned Michael in response.

'Go to hell,' said Samael and puffed again on his cigarette.

'Yeh, hell. Exactly where you belong, dimwit.'

'Hell is a realm which I have visited. It is not quite my style. Dark, depressing, full of heavy feeling. Down below the catacombs of our heaven, in secret stairwells God speaks to few of.'

'There you go,' said Michael to the angels. 'He's already been to hell.'

'Perhaps you should come take a walk with me to the lower depths,' said Samael. 'It will put some humility into your religious pride, I think.'

'Ha, rich,' replied Michael. 'Well, I wouldn't go. Hell is a place of punishment. I obviously don't need punishing, unlike some I could mention.'

'The dark side,' began Samael. 'Is an experience. I don't regret my time their. It made me live in reality. Something which escapes your kind quite obviously. It learns you quick and proper bruvva. But that is obviously beyond you.'

Michael glared at Samael in response, as the angel just puffed on his cigarette and lit another one.

'How do you get to hell?' Gabriel asked Samael. 'Can you show me a stairwell?'

'There are secret latches in some of the catacombs. Talk to father in the throneroom if you want me to show you. I wouldn't take you normally, otherwise. You are too innocent Gabriel. Naive in your sticking with these bunch of do gooders,' said Samael.

'Don't underestimate the strength of angel Gabriel,' said Metatron. 'I've seen inner abilities in him from time to time which might surprise you Sammy.'

Samael puffed on his cigarette and considered Gabriel. 'Maybe,' he said after a few moments.

'Ho, it's Raphael,' said Michael, as Raphael entered the eating hall of the angels abode.

'What is going on here, fair angels?' queried Raphael. 'I see the upper hierarchy fiercely debating it doth seemeth to my wisdom.'

'If you call discussion with imbecility debate,' said Samael.

'No, not really,' retorted Michael instantly. 'Mostly intelligent conversation from one party, and drivel from the other.'

'So keep that drivel under control,' grinned Samael at Michael, and puffed smoke at him.

'The inane converse of Samael the fool,' said Raphael. 'He thinks himself cool I thinketh.'

'You think?' replied Samael. 'There is a first time for everything I guess.'

'He is a sinner, isn't he,' said Raphael, now standing confidently next to Michael.

'Rebellious in every way,' said Michael proudly, glaring at Samael.

'I think it is obvious in his farts,' said Raphael. 'They stink of the fowlest intoxication.'

'Much akin to the breath of Raphael I would imagine,' replied Samael.

'Oh, the lad is in a feisty mood,' said Raphael. 'Good sport, what.'

'Listen you black skinned posh bastard,' began Samael. 'Your attempt at singing with all those bongo drums is not only boring, but grandly irritating. And then you try and preach new Torah at us, and pass it off as divine. Give the angels of heaven a break, Raph. We're not impressed.'

'By numbers much of the community likes our approach,' said Raphael.

'About half I think,' commented Gabriel.

Samael looked at Gabriel. 'That might be true, in fact, brother. I do acknowledge truth. But the other half of us are far from impressed.'

'The dark side never likes to conform,' said Raphael.

'Indeed,' commented Metatron soberly.

'You know,' began Samael. 'If we could be bothered to actually respond to your assumptions on living standards, you would be embarrassed. You would see the pointlessness of maintaining behaviour traits which do not enrich a life and the living experience, but dullen it down, take the edge of adventure and vitality, and make you a boring conformist to Raphaelism, which only serves to enlargen, might I say even more so, the ego of a Seraphim angel who really should know better.'

'The response of evil only justifies a life style which will fade away when its crude pleasures are all spent up,' replied Raphael.

'And you will see then,' began Michael, 'that sin has a season, and when that season has expired, so much of the divine fire within has died. It's a fool who does not live the life by the light of Torah.'

'Torah of an angel,' replied Samael.

'The wisdom of the Book of Truth,' itself,' said Michael in respons. 'That is what Raphael's words really are. Truth. We know. We know it in our hearts.'

'A revelation of vanity,' said Samael.

'Ha. Rich,' replied Michael. 'Your vanity exceeds all and sundry, including blasted Azazel. You think yourself the pinnacle of wisdom.'

'Yet your team is guilty of that very act, through the machinations of new Torah, created only in your interests of sovereignty, or attempt thereat, and nothing of genuine life assistance,' replied Samael. 'Pot calling kettle black indeed.'

'A fool perishes for lack of knowledge,' said Raphael.

'A vain man pretends he knows all, yet fails to see the deceit in his own heart,' replied Samael.

'We have no deceit,' protested Raphael. 'Nought but good intentions.'

'With Raphael and co running the show. Ha, I spit at your vain attempts at authority. They shall never be recognized by myself, and many others I would claim.'

Raphael glared at Samael, but remained silent.

'A tree is known by its fruit,' said Gabriel. 'If Raphael's fruit is good, from his ministry, he justifies himself.'

'Yet those with eyes to see the truth judge the fruit more accurately, and do not give into vain belief in ones immaculacy,' said Samael.

'Says the angel whose eyes are blind,' replied Raphael.

'So you say,' said Samael, and puffed on his cigarette.

'Foolish arguments profit not,' said Gabriel. 'Let us adjourn this discussion. It breeds no peace in our common fellowship.'

'As you wish,' said Samael, and stood, and left the eating hall.

'He's stubborn,' said Michael.

'He knows his own mind,' said Metatron. 'He has a perspective which is not your own. Judge him if ye must, but ye may indeed be fighting a truth you'll acknowledge one day.'

'I doubt that,' said Michael, but did look towards the departed Samael.

Just then the Seraphim angels Simiel and Oriphiel entered the eating hall.

'We've been chatting, Michael,' said Simiel. 'Time to retire Saraqael and Remiel from their Archangelic duties. 'They are average Seraphim, and we two can do a much better job.'

'Gregoriel never stops championing them,' sighed Gabriel. 'They are a pair of comedic dimwits, who think themselves the authority of heaven.'

'The divine comedy,' said Simiel.

'We're a laugh a minute,' said Oriphiel.

'Yes, definitely a joke,' said Michael.

'You want a joke? What do you call an angel without wings?' said Simiel.

'I give up,' replied Michael. 'What?'

'Grounded,' said Simiel, a big grin on his face.

'Bad jokes at that,' replied Michael.

'I think we are happy with the seven Archangels as they stand,' said Gabriel. 'Your champion Gregoriel should think again.'

'But Saraqael and Remiel are just so average,' said Oriphiel. 'Boring mostly. We'll be much more lighthearted and popular.'

'Not the tone we're looking for,' said Raphael.

'So damn serious all the time,' said Oriphiel. 'At least dastardly Samael knows how to have a good time.'

'Don't mention that clown,' said Raphael. 'We've had our fill of him for the day.'

'There were tense discussions,' Gabriel said to Oriphiel and Simiel.

'Why we two would be perfect on the Sovereign Seven,' said Oriphiel.

'You'll come round,' said Simiel.

'Indeed,' replied Michael.

'Camael, Jophiel and Zadkiel also had a go at being among the Seven once,' said Gabriel. 'We had a temporary team with them, with Saraqael, Remiel and Raguel on other duties for a while. It didn't last though. It was before you guys were born.'

'So you are saying we have a chance,' said Simiel.

'In your dreams,' replied Gabriel, giggling.

'Our time will come,' said Simiel to Oriphiel. 'And we'll be ready, Mike. You'll see.'

'I can hardly wait,' replied the Archangel Michael in the dryest of tones.

* * * * *

Samael looked down into the whirling maelstrom. The Angelfire. The source of creation. It was a lake of fire, in the heart of heaven, beneath the divine city above, down around which the catacombs hovered on its outskirts. A large lake in some way, but small in most, 100 metres across, roughtly circular, and alive. That is all you could say when you were in its presence. It was alive. Spiritual fire. The Angelfire. God had created the Angelfire as the very first of his projects, so it was taught, and brought forth angelicdom of heaven from it. They were the angels of heaven, 700 brave male angels. They knew not what a male angel was, but they were it, brave and true. And some were good, but Samael was bad, because Michael always reminded him he was bad, whatever that meant. Like the tree of good and evil in the garden up above, Samael was the bad fruit. He didn't really believe that was true. Samael had a conscience. He did listen to it. But he also did whatever the hell he wanted to do, and didn't really give a damn what any other angel said to the contrary, including Michael and Raphael and co. Metatron left him alone, and that was what seemed to matter the most, as he was the oldest, and had the most respect. Azazel inevitably opposed Metatron, and in the council of things which they established to run their own affair Metatron sat at the head, and on the other side of the round table sat Azazel, who challenged everything, and gave no respect to the apparent authority of heaven. And then there was God, whose person was represented in an old man, who walked around heaven, eating fruit from the garden, a constant puzzle to all, who seemed good and benevolent, and left it all up to their own ministrations, the running of their lives. And all of that life began here, in this chamber of life, the chamber of the Angelfire.

'Destiny is born in there. Fate to,' said a voice to Samael's left.

Samael turned. It was Michael ironically enough.

Samael returned his gaze to the Angelfire and puffed on his cigarette. 'The dreams of eternal life unfold within do they?'

'Something like that,' replied Michael, drawing alongside his brother. 'All good is in there. And all bad. And the fates of eternal lives are lived out and grown and lengthened inexorably and inevitably, through trial and endless trial to strength of life is gained, and the ability to cope with the eternal.'

'The ability to cope with the eternal? Is that what it is all about?' asked Samael.

'Getting used to everyone else, and this complex thing called life, and learning the mastery of it all,' replied Michael. 'God explained it to me very clearly. This is the Angelfire where the heart of creation is played out afore hand, and that was and will be is born and liveth.'

'Fascinating,' said Samael. 'I use it to light my cigarettes.'

'You were born in there,' said Michael, looking down into the flames.

'I recall its life somewhat,' said Samael. 'There are – echoes of it, in my mind. I still remember things of the future, and that at the end of it all it all works out in the end, even if ironically.'

'God is good, you see,' said Michael.

'Perhaps he is. Or perhaps he is the living God, and you take what you get either way,' replied Samael.

'And perhaps that is true also,' said Michael. He turned and looked at his brother. 'We are adversaries. That much is true. But I don't hate you Samael, and I have respect for your life and person. Do remember that,' and Michael nodded to his brother, turned and went away.

Samael returned his gaze to the Angelfire. Such a Michaelesque statement to make, he thought to himself.

The fires cascaded, and spun away. Samael watched, fascinated, as it comforted his soul, and gave ease to the slightness of dark depression which seemed to be there these days.

'Every Samael was born in there,' said another voice from his left. Samael turned. It was God.

'Father,' said Samael, nodding.

'And they were all born in you,' said God, coming to stand next to his son.

Samael glared at the fires, and thought he saw an image for a moment. One occasionally reached out and grabbed you. A face, sometimes a thought, or another flame of passionate life.

'All born in me,' said Samael softly to himself. He turned to God. 'What the hell is that supposed to mean?'

'You are the archetype. The ultimate fashioner and source of all who bear your moniker, as their name, or first name. Even family names are born in you somewhat, the house of Samael.'

'Who?' asked Samael. 'Who the hell are these people?'

They are in your nature, 100% completely. The entirety of eternity of the life of Samael. All of it is in you. You are very special to me because of it. All 700 of my angelic sons are. And the daughters one day will be also.'

'There it is again. Daughters of God. What the hell are these females?' asked Samael.

'One day you will know,' said God. 'The heaven of Angelfire is my foundation stone for eternity. All names are born here in time. Every first name – every proper name – every surname. All, from the first to the last.'

'Fascinating,' said Samael, returning his focus to the flames. 'The Archetype of Samael am I? Bloody wonderful.'

'Yes,' said God, looking directly at Samael. 'It is all in you.'

Samael glared at the flames, and was vaguely aware God had departed, but he was not ready to leave. He needed some comfort this afternoon, to sooth the darkness within.

'What the hell is an Archetype?' he asked the flames in front of him. They just burned brightly in response. 'I am Samael, am I? The font of all wisdom?'

'Hardly,' said a voice.

'Another visitor,' said Samael, turning.

'The font of all wisdom is in all of us as one,' said Metatron. 'You can hardly claim the wisdom of your Seraphim brothers, so much you disavow them, but wise they are.'

'If you call dung wise,' replied Samael.

Metatron chuckled and looked into the flames. 'There is not much of me. Not much yet anyway. It is not a name greatly favoured in the infinite ones to come after us.'

'And you know this how?' asked Samael.

'I just sense it. Michael speaks boldly. Says unlimited numbers are within his heart. So much strength I do sense as well. His unfailing popularity it would seem.'

'Some guys get all the breaks,' said Samael, lighting another cigarette on the angelfire.

'If you call them breaks. Equal responsibility, God has told me from time to time. To represent so many and so much.'

'His egoness I am sure can handle the job,' smirked Samael.

Metatron looked squarely at his younger brother. 'And egos will you handle? The devil's themselves it seems to me.'

'Perhaps indeed,' replied Samael.

They stood there, as if gaining warmth from the fire, but it was just a mild warmth. Cool at times, even.

'Life will go on, anyway,' said Metatron at last.

'That much I do know,' said Samael dryly. 'Life will go on.'

'And there the query endeth, and we fill in time as best we can,' said Metatron.

There was no reply. They stood there, watching the eternal glory of God's creativity, and Metatron stole away, eventually Samael joining him, finding rest in his abode, and dreaming dreams. Of Samael's and Michael's and Metatron saying 'Still bugger all will use my bloody name.' And Samael grinned on that.

* * * * *

The Angelfire was the birthplace of the Theophany of God. He was born in the Pool of the Angelfire, birthed by the Creator, alongside the rest of the citizenship of the Angelfire. He was the Father of the Angelfire Community, their leader, their king. Then layers were built upon the pool of the Angelfire, and finally a top layer,, which was the ground. Angelfire Castle was built by the Theophany of God, but not completely on his own. There arose stedily from the Angelfire, climbing up to the surface, his angelic followers. The Angels of the Angelfire. Each a unique creation of the Almighty. These clung to the Theophany as the Father of the Angelfire community, which he was, and they served his will in the Angelfire Community. Metatron, Michael, Samael, Oriphiel & Simiel – a whole host of angels became part of the Angelfire community initially. Originally there were only male angels, but in time female ones would come to be. And they would mate and produce offspring. But in the Beginning of things when God created a Theophany to act for his official purposes in his own role, he created the Realm of the Angelfire for this Theophany as his Kingdom. And then, later on, came Home, which was the Theophanies home were he looked over the lower realms as their Father figure representing God Almighty. He was not really God when it came right down to it. He was a person, who later developed the name Wolfgang. He was simply the instrument God used to represent his firsthand and direct word and teaching to the people, and it pleased him well enough for the Theophany to represent in this way. But even the Theophany was a child of God, with his own mind and his own ways, and while he was the direct representation of God to creation, he had his own life as well.

The End

The Book of Truth

At the first beginning, God existed. He existed in perfect rest and harmony with himself. And then, the first cause, he contemplated. At some point in those contemplations, God had conceived of ideas pertaining to creation. Yet to achieve that creation, God would require knowledge. A system of data and information necessary for that creation to function and run by. And thus, the knowledge and data God created first of all, which was to be used to create the world and the cosmos, was wisdom. Wisdom was the firstborn of God's creation, the knowledge of how creation works, and the knowledge of how mankind would be formed. Wisdom was there at the beginning with God, a companion of sorts, through whom God created all things. The source of energy which was used with wisdom to create all things was the power inherit in God's being himself. So, as it is written, God created all things through his wisdom and power. Alleluia.

Gloria Excelsia

The first impulse of God. It had been debated by Callodyn and Kayella, sitting in the 'cafeteria' as it was called, nestled in the heart of God. The heart of God was an everchanging reality. Every morning, when the two of them woke, they found each other quite quickly, and the adventures began. The old man, who called himself Wolfric, showed up from time to time, and then he called himself Wolfgang, and occasionally the old wolf or the dark wolf. He would have adventures with them, as they day changed regularly, and the scenery changed at a constant rate, and landscapes came and went, in green and gold and red and brown, and all sorts of funny things, like ducks talking to them, saying 'We're pretty Daffy, aren't we', and rabbits talking to them saying 'What's up Doc?'. All sorts of weird creatures kept them entertained. And then, that morning, Callodyn and Kayella were again debating the first impulse of God.

'Perhaps he had been at eternal rest,' suggested Callodyn. 'And then decided to do something. He had been sleeping or resting all eternity and was sort of aware of himself but had never yet decided to act.'

'Reasonable assumption, bro,' responded Kayella. 'But who says we really are his firstborns? Perhaps he has played out this game a trillion times over?'

'Even if he has, what was the first impulse?' replied Callodyn.

'Something like your schema,' she replied. 'Most likely. Probably at eternal rest.'

'And then he created Callodyn,' smirked Callodyn.

'And gave him a break making Kayella,' responded Kayella.

'A break?' he asked her. 'I guess you could call it a break. Perhaps. If being introduced to a person with less charisma than a daffy sort of duck is a break.'

She chuckled at that. 'Oh, you think you are all charms? At least Daffy washes himself regularly. How many times have you showered this week? At all?'

'Shaddup,' he replied. 'The shower is not working.'

'I'm sure it's not,' she replied. 'Stubbornly refusing to clean such an ordinary soul.'

The old wolf was suddenly in their presence and sat down.

'Private information,' he said.

Kayella ate a chip and looked at the old man. 'What is?'

'Beginnings. Not for you to know.'

'Fine,' she responded. 'Have a chip,' she said, and handed him a chip, which he dutifully wolfed down.

'So what's next?' asked Callodyn. 'Here we are? What now?'

'Do you like the name Michael? Or Metatron?' asked the old man.

'They sound like nice names,' responded Kayella.

'They lack flair. Panache,' responded Callodyn. 'Rather plain and boring, quite frankly.'

'You're all charm,' said God.

'Have a chip,' replied Callodyn, who handed the old man a chip, which he dutifully wolfed down, his eye kept on the troublesome Callodyn all the while.

'I have an idea,' said Kayella. 'Create a whole stack of worlds, with many children of God.'

God was listening. 'Speak on,' said Wolfric.

'I and Callodyn can be the two special ones, and the others can be in awe of our majesty,' said Kayella.

'Sound's good,' said Callodyn.

'Vanity to me,' replied Wolfric. 'I think I'll demote you two down the list a bit. Teach you both some humility.'

'Glory inevitably rises,' replied Callodyn casually.

'And shit sinks,' said Kayella sarcastically.

'Enjoy the bottom then,' retorted Callodyn immediately.

'Yep. It's settled. Demotion it is,' said Wolfric firmly.

'Awww, give us a break,' said Callodyn. 'We two are all the fun. The true life of Eternity.'

'Right, the realm of eternity for you two then,' said God.

'Huh?' asked Kayella.

'Definitely not Heavenly material, let alone good enough for home,' said Wolfric. 'I was considering the Realm of Infinity for you two, but Eternity it is.'

'Realm of Infinity?' queried Callodyn. 'You've already got it all planned out, don't you?'

'Destiny does all that,' replied Wolfgang. 'I just read her heart and bring it all to be. Might plot a thing or two myself, but she's my prime principle I work with at this stage in the Angels Saga.'

'The angels saga?' queried Kayella.

'Never mind about that,' said God. 'Suffice to say you two children of destiny will have a lovely world of your own to be part of, and we'll leave it at that.'

'Sounds wonderful,' said Callodyn. 'Remember, all the glory,' said Callodyn, winking at God.

'Yep, and lots of lovely types of food you have been creating for us,' said Kayella.

'She'll be a fatty,' said Callodyn.

'Shaddup,' replied Kayella, eying her twin with hostility.

* * * * *

'It's a snake,' said Callodyn.

'It's the serpent,' said Wolfric.

The serpent slithered over. 'Hi, Kayella. How's it hanging, baby?'

'Crude, snake,' said Kayella.

'I like to tempt,' said Samael.

'You're a child of heaven, aren't you?' queried Callodyn.

'The children of God,' smiled Samael. 'I have a protege of Infinity. Samael of the Onaphim. Does good work. Keeps that damn Logos in check.'

'The heart of God has so many weird and wonderful people in it,' Kayella said to God.

'Samael is certainly weird and wonderful,' replied God, eyeing Samael, who was sniffing around at the cafeteria chocolate pile.

'You like chocolate, do you?' asked Kayella. 'I love chocolate.'

'She eats tonnes of it,' said Callodyn.

'You should,' said Samael, slithering over to their seat with a stack of chocolates, and sitting down next to them. 'Can I tempt you Kayella?' he asked, offering her a handful of chokkie.

'I'll get fat,' she replied, touching her waist.

'Not an issue,' replied the Devil. 'Men love fat women. They rave on about them all the time. Exactly what they are looking for?'

'Really?' asked Kayella, wide eyed.

'Really,' nodded the devil.

Callodyn stared at Samael, grimly. 'He's probably lying to you Kay.'

'Whattht?' asked Kayella, who was starting to stuff her mouth full of chocolate.

'I don't think she heard you,' God replied to Callodyn.

'Obviously not,' said Callodyn.

'Eat heaps,' said Samael. 'It's good stuff. Good for you.'

'One perspective,' said God.

'It tathtes greaat,' replied Kayella, her mouth stuffed with chocolate.

'You'll never feel like a bloated whale, full of blubber. Don't sweat it,' said the Devil.

'Thannnkkks,' replied Kayella.

As the devil stood to walk away, she got nervous. 'You don't want any?' she asked.

Samael leaned over and looked directly into her eyes. 'It's all yours, sweetheart.'

'Thanks,' she said again.

The devil left.

'I don't like him,' said Callodyn, and looked at his twin, still stuffing her mouth with chocolate.

'Mmm,' said God, stroking his chin. Interesting.

* * * * *

'It's called Gloria Excelsia,' said Callodyn.

'It's Gloria in Excelsis Deo,' replied Kayella. 'Glory to God in the Highest. Yours isn't even proper latin.'

'It means excessively high glory. It's anglicized,' replied Callodyn.

'You're anglicized, idiot,' replied Kayella. 'How does it go then?'

'It's not a frikking tune. It's a chronicle,' replied Callodyn, coolly emphasizing the word chronicle.

'And what's a chronicle?' asked Kayella.

'The beginning of a record of things. This is all about our initial life in the heart of God before we become really real.'

'Don't be rude,' replied Kayella.

'So we are the highest glory. Our lives,' said Callodyn.

'You don't think that's a little vain?' queried Kayella.

'Nothing further from the truth,' replied Callodyn. 'Completely humble. In every which way.'

'I could write tomes on that humility,' replied Kayella sarcastically.

'Indeed. And I have,' said Callodyn.

'And where is this chronicle going to be kept. For posterity's sake?' asked Kayella.

'I..........don't know,' replied Callodyn.

'Is that Gloria Excelsia?' asked Wolfric, coming on the scene. 'I'll take a copy if you don't mind. Keep it forever.'

'I'm not so sure about that?' replied Callodyn. 'I mean, how much will you pay me?'

'It will all come in time,' replied God.

'You sure about that?' asked Callodyn.

'Look, I'll get around to it. One day. Promise,' replied God.

'I'll bet,' said Callodyn. 'When hell freezes over. Getting money from you is like getting blood out of a stone.'

'Trust me,' said God. 'Have I ever let you down.'

'Where to begin,' said Callodyn.

'Fork it over CAL,' said God, in a more serious tone.

'I'll expect $29.95 in cold hard cash,' said Callodyn.

'I'll send you an IOU,' replied God, taking the chronicle.

Callodyn sighed.

'You're a sucker,' said Kayella. 'I certainly would make him pay hard, and up front.'

'I guess I'm old fashioned,' said Callodyn. 'Dedicated to being humble, you see.'

'Oh man. Here we go again,' replied Kayella.

And another day passed in the heart of God.

The End

The Heart of God

God did indeed have a sense of humour, he thought to himself in reflection.  Daniel.  Callodyn.  Two very funny angels.  Ariel.  Kayella.  Two long-suffering twins.  Where on earth shall I place their glory?  Well, at the beginning, shall we say, just a little before the egos from Israel.  Just a little before blessed Michael and Ambriel.  In the heart of God.  Before Time began.  Before love and hate, before life and death, before good and evil.  Before all things.

'Jesus.  You really are stupid.'

'Fuck off, Daniel.'

'Start a church?'

'You have no ambitions, Rothchild.'

'I keep the faith, Yeshua.'

'Dream on,' responded the Christ of God's greater glory.

Callodyn and Kayella were, in God's estimations, the actual talent amongst his infinite children.  Bright.  Gifted.  Charming.  Sensible.  Adroit.  Skilled.  Pragmatic and practical.  Wise.  Humble.  Exceedingly proud.  And all together lovely.  Best to give them some weight problems to keep them in check.  Of course, God loved 228, a very dedicated pair.  To shine forever.  To shine always.  The heart of God, were he created number 2 first of all, Michael of Eternity, was a quick 'Cool' by God, but then back to the 228 project.  The glory.  The exciting stuff.  And then, at another point, much later on in history, reawakening some older memories which he had put to sleep, had lie dormant, he looked into them and recalled some things in the earlier thoughts from the heart of God.  Some forgotten thoughts.  He had existed forever, after all.  Forever.

'You are Callodyn and you are Kayella.  Destiny and life hinges upon you both.  You are my true firstborn children.  And this is the beginning.  For later a jealous rival shall show up, but we shall slumber till then.  Yet you, Callodyn, and you, Kayella, are my true firstborns.  The oldest of the covenants.  The first of the covenants.  For it is your heart, Callodyn.  It is your heart.

And the true firstborn son and daughter of God rested, in comfort, and the hand of eternity turned its course, and what was to be would come to be in God's good time.

The End

The Birth of Meludiel

God mused.  The heart of the Messiah was a complex and difficult thing to fathom, such being his yearning towards love and infinity.  Such being his yearning towards God and eternity.  Yet, one heart, one love, filled a void in him, which nothing else could fill – his blessed twin, Meludiel.

Ambriel – the Messiah to be – would be twin and heart of Meludiel, as she would be his – and yet, there would be one other to claim her soul as well – charming old Daniel.  He was ever so incorrigible.

Meludiel took form in the heart of God for months, if not years, such being the devotion he was placing into her being, the sheer commitment to those she loved, and those she was concerned about.  He ministered grace into her innermost being, patience, and virtue.  And he would place Jesus in her heart, as her King, for a time period as well.  And in those things she would find her completion as an angel of God.

He worked on her, and continued to work on her, birthing her spirit in his heart, and whispering dreams to her mind, and adventures of passion and glory to her soul, and telling her he loved her, and she would forever be in her father’s hands.  He whispered songs of melody to her heart, and songs of harmony, and the song of creation, the song of eternity, was implanted into her very soul, the very fibre of her being.  And he loved her, dearly.  He loved her.

Meludiel sat, those early days, on the pre-school floor, sitting there, looking beautiful, with Ambriel running all over the place, chasing Daniel, and playing games, and watching, occasionally, his twin, to make sure she was ok.  And Ariel came inside from time to time, away from hunting the wolf who bothered her, and sat with Meludiel, and they sang songs, and they played games, and they loved each other, and God was happy.  Watching them, there, in the nursery of his heart, in the nursery of his soul – in the nursery of Infinity, in the nursery of Eternity.

The End

Ariel and the Wolf 

  She was 15.  Or was she 25?  She couldn't remember.  In this place things changed a lot.  A hazy kind of reality, or so she thought.

Daniel was her twin, though.  He loved her.  He said so all the time.  But the wolf hunted her.  It always hunted her.

Suddenly, she was in the nursery again.  Away from the green grass and leaves she had just been familiar with.  Back again in the nursery, and there was the old man again - her father.

'Ariel.  Come here.'

Ariel obeyed.

'Is that wolf bothering you?' he asked.

She nodded.

'Are you scared of the wolf?' he asked her.

She nodded.

'Wolves can be like that.  Scary!' he finished.

And she was away again, deep in the forest.

*

It was late - and she was further in the forest than she had ever been.  But it was ok.  Daniel was just back in the clearing a little - wasn't he?

She followed her trail, and a new bridge appeared, one she had never seen - And out came the wolf.

He snarled a deep snarl, but she knew, this time, she would have to be brave.  She would have to conquer the wolf.

A staff was suddenly in her hand, and she thrust it at the wolf, who dodged it nimbly.

'Go away wolf,' she yelled at it, but it stood its ground.

Suddenly it sprang at her, and, the fear overcoming her, she turned and ran and ran and ran and ran...............

And just as suddenly she was in the arms of Daniel, who was calming her down, wiping away her tears.

'I hate that wolf,' she said sobbing.

Later on she was in the nursery again, and the old man was there.

And she was a child, and he picked her up, and cradled her and comforted her.

And she hid in the heart of God, but outside the nursery she knew he was there, watching, silently waiting.  The wolf.  Ready to eat her all up.  Ready to devour her fear.

And then she hid there, in the heart of God.  Quiet.  Gentle.  Shy.  Humble.

Home.

And soon the new day began, yet another, and Daniel and Ambriel were soon there, playing with her.  And Meludiel soon also.

And, joy of joys, finally a visit from Michael and Elenniel.

And she noticed, throughout the day, the old man, watching her, silently.  Guarding her.

Against the Dark.

Against the Fear.

Against the Wolf.

The End

The Challenge

God told them his plans, his children, and then told them they'd forget when born in the real planes of reality. But Cherubim Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly, who would be the 347th Cherubim of the planned Realm of Eternity saw an opportunity, and he took it.

Metatron was firstborn. He would rule Home, Heaven, Infinity, Eternity, Paradise and the Seven Heavenly Realms. And he had an ego. But he had met his match.

'You won't win,' said Metatron. 'Your wasting your time.'

'If I lose, the whole 347th Disc will give you a tithe of its GDP.'

'That's a lot of cashola. Sure you want to risk it? I'll thrash you at chess. I play the old man. He calls me a handful.'

'If I win, I'm the technical authority. Over you. And I can claim it later on officially, through my accomplishment, and end up ruling forever. Ok. I remain technical authority from the birth of Home forever, but the ruling authority in the Real world when I have shown my stuff.'

Metatron mulled it over. Sure. He couldn't lose. 10% of the Disc planned for the Cherubim was huge cashola. He'd take the easy money.'

A little while later.

'Why so dejected?' asked the Old Man.

'Don't bloody ask,' said Metaron. 'Firstborn? Yeh right. Lost my glory on a game of chess. Amazing.'

The Old Man looked at his son, and looked over at Cherubim Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly talking with Cherubim Taylor. Now that was something which didn't happen every day.

The End

HOME

In The Beginning

Beginnings and Endings.  Endings and Beginnings.  And in between perhaps infinity and eternity.

In his plans God had thought through much of what would take place within the realms which would come to be known as the Realms of Infinity and the Realms of Eternity.  But prior to their advent, would come his own special home – his private and personal domain – a place he would share only with the 3 firstborn of all the Children of God – Metatron, Logos and Memra.  And that private special dwelling place would simply be called ‘Home’.

And then the children of God and the very first of the four Realms – the Realm of Heaven.  God planned 70 children.  70 only who would be his firstborn children – no more – no less.  The 70 children he had in mind were 35 boys and 35 girls.  They would have a destiny, of course, but they would not have a destiny.  His own children would decide, after they had learned their life lessons, their future and fate for themselves.

The rest of his offspring, he would never grant that right in full.  He would never allow his other children to be lost to him through their own choices – he simply would not allow that.  That decision had become immutable in his mind – eternally unchangeable.

But his own children, them he would teach and allow – in the fullness of time – the right and ability to craft their own destiny.  That much he would allow those who had been last in planning, but were to be first in origin.

And so would come ‘Home’, followed by the four Realms of ‘Heaven, Infinity, Eternity and Paradise’.  And thus God took to the work of the eternal – the work of life and love.

* * * * *

And time passed. And the plans of God continued to develop. He had been studying through destiny and choice. The careful balance of plan and decision. And he understood the ideas of the choosings of his children, and what they were likely to do and how things would come to be. There were things he would bring to be, and things which he had let come to be, and life always had its present state in which choices could be made, despite destiny, which continued to shape things to come. Very living life principles. And as the realms took shape more, ideas were added of further realms, till he had a list of 9 primary focii. The Angelfire had been the beginning of the creation of God, and then he had mused in his heart from the consequences of that creation, and the things it spoke forth on what life should carve out for itself. And in the heart of God he had brought forth children, a great and divers number, and then had come Home. And, as he had planned, so would be Infinity, Eternity and Paradise. But Eternya had shaped itself as a necessary reality in his thoughts, and then, in time, Zionistya had not so much insisted on itself, but deemed something needed to assuage concerns. And these were his primary nine focii – The Angelfire, The Heart of God, Home, Heaven, Infinity, Eternity, Paradise, Eternya and Zionistya. The Heart of God could not be simply entered into. After the melting pot which Angelfire had been, he had withdrawn into his private world were things took shape for the realms to be. But, at times, the new children would have adventure and rest in the Heart of God, at his choosing, and while it would be a realm of sorts, it was not so much according to the rules of physics, as it where. It was a dreamscape, and a place of emotion and the highest and lowest aspirations the heart brought forth. So, in the real sense, 8 primary realms. But not limited to 8, for in time after that more worlds, but a final number he had at the back of his mind. That number had not taken final form, and perhaps he would let it be and consider things slowly. But it would be resolved in the fulness of time, and then his work would be complete, and life would go on forever thereafter. So he contemplated these realms, and their potential interactions, and time passed, and a concept came. Earth. The physical world. And, thinking on the first of the children of heaven, Adam and Eve, a new plan began formulating in the mind of the eternal creator.

The End

Life at Home

0 HY

‘You are Metatron, my Firstborn child.  And I love you.’  Metatron nodded, having just been animated to life by the eternal spirit of God.  He rose up from where he was laying and looked around.  There were structures, which God shortly told him were buildings.  One main farmhouse, were they would live.  A barn out the back, were cows gave milk.  And a shed over to the side were chickens gave eggs.  And then fields for a few hundred metres filled with crops before disappearing into an eternal void – that void a cascade of wavering lights, almost like an eternal aurora.

‘Where are we?’ he asked, with the intuitive voice given to him. 

‘We are Home,’ replied God.

For a year they ate, drank and slept.  And God introduced Metatron to chess, which they played avidly.  He liked beer, did Metatron.  He liked it a lot, and got drunk often, much to God his Father’s annoyance.  But God relented, acknowledging that in the end such stuff had been created for that purpose.

And then came Logos and Memra shortly afterwards.  And Metatron had a family.

And then later, in discussion, ‘Yes, there will be 70 of them.  No, we will not meet them.  Not initially.  But you can watch them through the portal I will place in the living room.  But it is only the beginning, children.  Only the beginning.’

* * * * *

Metatron ate cookies. Very quickly, after God had explained to Memra that working with dough and eggs and sugar and milk and things could be interesting, and heating the results, cookies arrived. An oven appeared one day.

'Where did that thing come from?' asked Metatron.

'Op Shop down the road a bit,' replied God.

Metatron had no idea what he was on about. But the oven was used as a test case on the cookies, which soon became official food for the kitchen. And they four of them ate them in droves, though Memra was keen to watch her weight somewhat. God mentioned one day that if you cut of a chicken's head, and plucked its feathers and gutted it, you could cook it. The 3 of them were aghast – how could you possibly kill a chicken?

'You take the axe, and cut its head off,' said Memra. 'You've chopped firewood Mettie. It's the same principle. Only, ew, a frikking chicken's neck.'

'Hold the chicken steady,' said Metatron.

'Don't cut my frikking hands off,' complained Logos.

'Good idea, but I'll be careful,' repied Metatron. He found some courage, but put down the axe and said 'I can't do it.'

Memra picked up the axe, steadied herself, and with a feminist chop, off came the chicken's head. They watched, amused, as the body started running around for a bit, before finally collapsing. God had come outside.

'It's now dead,' he said.

'What does dead mean?' asked Logos.

'The end of life. The concept will recur in your future. There are – issues – relating to it.'

Memra took the chicken, and God explained how to gut it, and she got the job done, ignoring the smell. After she had plucked off the feathers they took it inside to the kitchen, and God told her to wash out its interior and exterior. Memra did so in the sink.

'It's ready to go,' said God. 'A good hour or so about 180 degrees celsuius. When the skin is nice and brown it should be good enough for eating.'

The next while they sat in the kitchen, drinking water and eating a rare cookie, Logos getting up all the time to look in the oven.

'It's brown,' he said.

'Wait a bit longer,' replied God.

They did so, and soon God motioned to Memra to take the chicken out of the oven. She put on her oven mits, and put the chicken up onto the cutting board. 'I suppose cut off some pieces with a knife?' queried Memra.

God nodded.

Soon enough, when it had cooled down enough, they were all eating their first chicken.

'Hey, it's great,' said Metatron.

'Would go well with baked potatoes and pumpkin,' said Logos.

'Maybe some peas and corn as well,' commented Memra.

'We'll get to the gravy later,' said God.

All agreed they liked roast chicken.

The days passed, and the 3 children of God started getting used to life in Home and the things they did to occupy themselves. Memra quickly claimed she owned the cooking in the kitchen rights, but the other two, Logos and Metatron, who God said were brothers of sorts, had endless arguments about the rest of the manor on whose, essentially, turf this bit was and turf that bit was. God said to them sibling rivalry was a common enough thing, whatever that meant.

* * * * *

God and Logos were eating cookies, discussing the planned children of God

'Why 70?' Logos asked the Theophany of God.

'It's a number of completion. In every case of every number to infinity, every number also signifies a number of completion. But some are stronger and more complete than others,' replied God. 'Some mean more.'

'I see,' said Logos.

'For example, the week. The week has 7 days, and we rest on the 7^th day.'

'What the heck is a week?' asked Logos.

'Today is Wednesday,' replied God. 'The fourth day of the week.'

'Oh,' said Logos. 'What the 7 days of the week?'

'Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday.'

'An alternative system is the next scale. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and so on, to Tuesday being the first day and then Wednesday and so on and so forth.'

'So you are based on Sunday as the first day? I like that well enough, but I'm number two so I might consider Monday ideas,' replied Logos.

'When did you get promoted to number 2?' asked God.

'Hey, Metatron? Please. Give me a break. He's average on a good day.'

'Fair enough,' replied God, and reached for another cookie.

The End

Metatron’s Gambit 

2,300 HY

Life for Metatron, firstborn son of God, had its ups and its downs but, for the most part, he was generally satisfied with his lot in life.  He lived in Home, the very first of the created Realms, of which there were now 3:  Home, Heaven and the Realm of Infinity.  From what God had shared with him he knew of a Realm to be created coming up in the future known as the Realm of Eternity.  And after that, over the aeons, a significant number more from what God had said.  But for now he resided in home happily living out his life.

Metatron played Chess, often engaged with bouts with the theophany of God and his younger brother and sister, Logos and Memra.  He liked Chess, in fact a great deal, and was currently engaged in a game with God.  God had shared with him this truth – in his theophanic form he had limitations – particular limitations, which were suitable for such a form.  And while Metatron, after over 1,000 games of chess with God had never beaten him, God had told him he was capable of doing as such.  And so, currently sitting out in the fields surrounding home, gazing out at the neverending aurora which surrounded the realm, Metatron considered something.  A gambit.  A gamble.  A risky move, something he had not really tried before, to try and finally claim victory over his eternal father.  And it was a gambit which involved a new idea he had come up with:  Sacrifice.

The sacrifice gambit in Metatron’s thinking was this:  instead of making the most obvious moves in strength, put forth a subtle move for a piece which he knew could be taken without risk to, in the hypothesis, make it easier in later moves to take a more powerful piece.  This idea – sacrifice – seemed to him a new development in the game.  Looking at his father as he played he often felt that God was still going easy on him.  But God never really seemed to play with this type of move in mind, usually playing a similar, but slightly different, gameplan to himself.  Perhaps this idea, perhaps this new idea, would work.  Perhaps it would be the very thing which would give him his first victory over his eternal father.

*    *    *    *    *

Logos took the cookies out of the oven, an oven mitt on his hands handling the hot tray, as God and Memra, hearing the oven buzzer, came into the room.  Metatron soon joined them.  He carefully used the tongs to put the cookies onto a plate and put them in the middle of the table.  God was about to grab one when Logos rebuked him saying, ‘wait for your milk.’  But God was hungry and snatched one anyway and started nibbling.  Memra looked at God’s substantial belly and smiled.

‘Your starting to put on weight, father.  You really should watch what you eat.’

‘I guess,’ replied the theophany of God.

Logos placed four glasses of milk and the jug on the table, and God prayed to his eternal spirit thanks, and they started munching.

After eating his fourth cookie God looked at Metatron.  ‘Have you considered your next move?  You are getting better you know.’

Metatron looked at him cautiously and said, ‘Mmm.  Perhaps father.  You’ll see.’

God eyed him cautiously and went back to his cookie.  ‘Well it had better be a good move son,’ he responded.  ‘I think I almost have you again.’

‘So you say,’ responded Metatron, being as cautious not to brag as possible.

Logos and Memra looked at the two of them and Logos said, ‘He’ll beat you eventually, father.  He does persevere.’

‘Perhaps.  But we’ll see.’

‘Indeed we will,’ said Memra, and took another sip of milk.

*    *    *    *    *

17 moves had passed, and the Gambit was about to show its fruit.  God looked stuck and finally caved and moved the piece in the only way he could, Metatron instantly taking the exposed rook with his bishop.  God looked at him and slowly a grin came to his face.  ‘Well, son.  I think you have finally done it.’  And Metatron beamed.

2 days later, Metatron having claimed victory, went to the chalkboard scoreboard out on the side of the house.  God was still keeping score and on his half he still managed to fit in all his strokes of victory.  God had followed him outside and Logos and Memra were just behind him.  As Metatron picked up the chalk Logos started going ‘Da darr.  Da darr.  Da darr,’ and in triumph Metatron put his first chalk stroke up on the board.  Logos looked at him and said, ‘Well done Metty.’  God just grinned, looked at the chalkboard, and gave Metatron a formal bow.  ‘It seems you have bested me for once.  But beware my wrath, dear Metatron.’  And Metatron smiled.  Yes, indeed, Metatron’s Gambit had proved successful, and for that he was immensely happy and relieved.  Most relieved indeed.

THE END

“Metatron and Logos – War of the Worlds”

  Metatron was out in the fields, gazing at the neverending aurora, feeding the chickens.  And looking at the chickens an idea suddenly came to him.  A most amusing idea.  ‘Let’s have a war.  The war to end all wars,’ he thought to himself.  ‘The War of the Worlds.’

Logos was out the back, shovelling hay in the barn, just for the heck of it, and looked at the cows.  And looking at the cows an idea suddenly came to him.  A most amusing idea.  ‘Let’s have a war.  The war to end all wars,’ he thought to himself.  ‘The War of the Worlds.’

Inside Memra was suddenly overcome.  ‘Good grief,’ she said to herself, suddenly gaining a portent for what was coming.  ‘Home will never be the same again.’  And looking over at God who was sipping on a can of Coke, he just smiled a little smile and said nothing.

*    *    *

He had spent all afternoon in his workshop, going down three sublevels to find the necessary resources, which just seemed to magically appear.  But that was the way it was at home.  Things tended to magically appear.  Now, driving his little lorry out of the workshop, towing 25 tips full of weapons, he made his way to the chickens out the front of home.  Getting off the lorry he whistled sharply and yelled.  ‘Alright chickens.  Attention.  Come forward, two by two, and receive your weapons.’  And, in obedience, the chickens gradually came forwards and Metatron started handing out the mini bazookas to each of the chickens.  They would attack at twilight, and they would take no prisoners.

*    *    *

Logos looked at the flame throwers he had prepared.  Yes, they should do perfectly.  He filled the lorries gradually and, as the afternoon passed, drove the lorry out to the cows in the field and prepared them for battle.  The carnage was expected to be great indeed.

*    *    *

First Commander Clucketty Cluck looked through the binoculars at the enemy.  He turned to Metatron and went ‘Bok.’

‘Bok?’ inquired Metatron.

‘Bok,’ responded Clucketty Cluck.  Metatron turned to Second Commander Brightfeather, who had a feather protruding from his head.  ‘And your analysis?’ asked Metatron.

‘Bokitty Bok,’ responded Brightfeather.

‘That bad, huh?’ said Metatron, and returned his gaze forwards.

General Moo looked through the spyhole and turned to Logos.  ‘Moooooooo.’

‘That bad huh?’  General Moo nodded.  ‘Well, it’s now or never.’

*    *    *

The chickens attacked on the left flank initially, and casualties were high on both sides.  Feathers and fur flew everywhere, but both sides were determined to gain the upper hand, so no quarter was given.  Metatron decided on a surprise attack.  He had cheated a little and arranged for some extra forces.  And yelling ‘Attack’ the Turkeys sped right ahead, armed with crossbows, taking out as many cows as they possibly could.  But Logos was ready for such tactics.  He pressed a button on his remote and a loud noise started coming from the barn.  Suddenly a giant tank appeared, a cow’s head popping out through the top, and it blew bombs at the attacking turkeys.  Feathers and turkeys flew everywhere.

Metatron looked concerned.  Logos had the numbers.  Time, perhaps, for a tactical retreat.  He gathered his remaining forces and headed inside the House, out to the safe back yard.  Logos stood in front of the House, motioned for his bravest cows to follow him, and they entered, passing through the dining room were Memra and God were looking at the grandfather clock, engaged in some sort of conversation, and soon came to the back yard.

‘They should be right back,’ said God to Memra.

True to God’s word Logos suddenly ran through the dining room, his cows following him quickly.  Suddenly Metatron appeared holding, of all things, a large bomb with ‘1000 Metatron Bomb’ written on it.  Things looked dire.

*    *    *

It was the final showdown.  God was on the swinging couch on the porch, Memra seated next to him.  Metatron was facing down Logos, looking very menacing with his ‘1000 Metatron Bomb’.  Logos said, ‘Go on.  Explode it.  I DARE you.’

‘Don’t tempt me.  I will, I tell you.  I will.’

‘I DARE you.  I Double DARE you.  To hell with it.  I Triple DARE you.’

‘As you wish,’ and he pressed the detonation button.

*    *    *

A mushroom cloud was an original event for Home, but when the buildings were, by the grace of God, left standing, the mess of dead cow and chicken and turkey all over the landscape was truly a sight to behold.  Metatron’s hair was all singed and he had black ashes on his face, as did Logos.  Logos looked at him, grinned a little, and walked over.  ‘We’ll call that a draw, shall we?’

‘As long as you cook the chicken.’

‘Okely Dokely.’

An hour later they were in the dining room, feasting on fried chicken and steak and some of God’s reserves of Coca Cola, when Memra posed this interesting dilemma.  ‘If that was the War of the Worlds, how can we possibly top that?’

Logos looked at Metatron, who looked back in return.  And then God said ‘I’m sure they’ll think of something,’ and everyone laughed.

The End

Logos and Memra: A Day in the Life of

Memra was in the kitchen of home, were Logos liked her. But that was his way, wasn't it. A woman's place was in the kitchen. Metatron grinned at his younger brother's oft heard sarcasms to his sister on the proper role of women. 'Women stands for Worship Our Master's Every Need' Logos was oft heard remarking,' to which Memra, in her fit of rage, would say, 'And you can go eff yourself up your clacker if you think I am bloody......,' and so on and so forth, yet that was the relationship between them. Metatron enjoyed the rivalry.

One day Memra was in the kitchen, with Metatron looking at the chess board in a game he and God were slowly involved in, when Logos walked in.

'Hey honey,' said Memra turning to Logos. 'Would you like a bit?'

'Oh, yeah,' said Logos, glancing over the body of his sister. 'I'm in the mood I suppose.'

Metatron smiled to himself.

Memra turned away, and then turned back and handed him a gingerbread man.

'Gee. Great,' said Logos, somewhat disappointed, and reluctantly took the gingerbread man, sat down and took a bite.

'You seem disappointed,' said Memra. 'What did you think I was offering you?'

'Not this shite,' said Logos, muttering to himself.

Metatron grinned again.

'I mean, are you sure you can cook, babe?' queried Logos. 'Even the old fart does better gingerbread men than this.'

Memra was aghast. 'MEN!' she screeched. 'You spend all day slaving over a hot oven and this is the bloody thanks I receive. You know, brother, you can go $%£” yourself for the rest of the day, and don't expect any tonight, if you know what I mean.'

'Nah,' said Logos to himself again. 'Just shitty gingerbread men.'

Metatron grinned once more.

In a huff, Memra took a teatowel, threw it at Logos, and stormed out of the kitchen.

'Women,' said Logos, and munched away on the gingerbread man.

After a while.... 'It's not bad, actually. The gingie,' said Logos.

Metatron raised his head, and looked at Logos.

'You know, brother of mine, there are a lot of things I could say. And perhaps there are a lot of things I should say.'

'Yes,' queried Logos.

'But what I will say is this. You sure know your way to a woman's heart.'

'Gee. Thanks,' said Logos smiling, and munched again on his cookie.

Metatron just shook his head and said 'Unbelievable' to himself, and returned his thoughts to the chessboard.

And all that week all that Logos got fed was gingerbread men.

The End

12 O'Clock

'It is 12 O'Clock,' said God.

'What's that mean, then?' asked Metatron.

'Midday,' replied God.

'Waking hours? The middle of the day?' queried Metatron.

God nodded.

'So there is 48 hours in a day, as I have always known,' said Logos.

'24,' said God.

'But it's the middle of the day, and the day begins at first light,' said Logos.

'That's long been the assumption,' says God. 'I never confirmed that though. The day begins at the middle of the night, and ends at the middle of the night. 12 O'Clock Midnight.'

'The Night comes first, then the day, and that is a full Day,' said Logos. 'That's how the system works.'

'Nah, it's probably the day first, then we need to rest in the night,' said Metatron.

'Dumb,' said Logos. 'Without first resting you can't just get stuck into a job. Creation begins with a night of rest to dream it all up, then we run with the plans we dream up. It's how it works brother.'

'Get stuck right in,' says Metatron. 'The plans flow instinct like.'

Memra nodded. 'I see the logic, father. Rest and Dream. Do your work, then rest some more and end the day. Perfect logic. The day begins at Midnight.'

'I'm thinking I like Logos logic actually,' said God. 'I see his point now.'

'The there are 48 hours in the day,' said Logos.

'No, I'll stick with 24,' says God.

'Lame,' says Logos. '48. More to work with.'

'24,' replies God. 'But I agree that Creation needs to start with a good nights rest and dreams. Solid idea chap.'

'You got half the vote,' said Metatron.

'You got none,' said Logos in reply.

'Just the logical truth,' said Metatron. 'Day then night. Makes perfect sense.'

'24 hours, and this is 12 midday,' said God.

'So we go on to 13 O'Clock next. But, you said 12 midnight? What? Two sets of 12?'

'There's a 24 hour clock also,' said God. 'But two sets of 12 makes a better tradition.'

'Whatever,' replied Logos.

'Settled then,' finished God.

The End

Aurora Dreaming

The four of them were sitting on a bench at the side of the farmhouse of home, looking out at the eternally changing Aurora.

'It's like a dream, in its own way,' said Memra.

There was a small table in front of them with tee and cookies. God took a cookie.

'It's meant to be a constant and eternal sense of wonder. For me and you three,' said god, nibbling on his cookie.

'Why is that then?' asked Metatron.

'To inspire faith in the infinite and infinite possibilities. The Aurora represents light and colour and the mystery of God and life and how it always changes and moves on. It's a metaphor for our eternal lives,' replied God.

'I see,' said Metatron. 'Funny, it makes me want to go to the toilet after watching it for a while.'

'That's probably the tea,' said Memra.

'Probably,' said Metatron.

'It's rather dull, though. Pretty, but dull,' said Logos.

God looked at him. 'I like it like that. Quiet and reflective.'

'Life needs action,' said Logos. 'In the heart of God where it all began, there was action.'

'There were things earlier. Pre-Heart era,' said God. 'And before all that what you would call the Mind of God.'

'Things before the heart?' queried Logos.

'Geocities and Angelfire realities,' replied God.

'Huh?' said Metatron. 'Other worlds? Or more of the heart of God? You have earlier children? Thought we were it.'

'I mainly begin with the heart of God,' said God. 'I'm the father person. The figure you can physically hold and touch. I'm not really God, though. Not his eternal person. Just a creation of his, which shares in his life. I'm Wolfgang. Or Wolfric.'

'Wolfgang again,' said Memra. 'He says he's Wolfgang occasionally. The old wolf or something like that.'

'Something like that,' replied God. He reached down and grabbed another cookie.

'Too many of them and you'll be a fat Wolfgang,' said Memra.

'I manage it well,, as you know,' said God.

'Cheating us,' said Metatron. 'We don't get such breaks.'

'Course not,' said God. 'Watch the Aurora.'

They watched the Aurora, and the day went on.

The End

HEAVEN

The Play

1990 HY

  ‘Lucy.’  ‘Yes Enrique.’  ‘Do you love me, Lucy?  Do you love me?’  Lucy, child of God, sitting in her abode in Azaphon, the Diamond city, considered her brother Enrique’s question.  Enrique was, in a sense, Lucy’s personal brother.  A brother in rank of birth the same number as Lucy in order, that being the 35th and last of the children of heaven.  In overall order of birth amongst God’s 70 children, Enrique was 65th and herself Lucy was last of all, 70th.  Of course, she loved him dearly, and told him that often, as she did all her brethren.  Yet, in listening carefully and sensitively to Enrique’s question, Lucy sensed something in the tone, in the intent of the question that searched for an answer unlike the standard ‘of course I love you.’  She looked straight at him.  ‘You are a dork, Enrique.    Don’t be so dramatic.  Just like dreamlord Daniel – always so dramatic.’

‘Come now, sister.  I am far from the likes of Dream.  A most obsessive personality, that one.  Yet he, like us all, does have his charms.’

‘Yes, he does at that.  I feel it in the dreams he sends me each night.  In the subtleties of love and friendship he graces me with from my dream brethren and, of course, those other faces we all know so well now – yet who do not, seemingly, exist.  Tell me, Enrique, do you share the common view?  That these people we see are other brethren?  Others which God does not share with us?  From another realm?  Another place?  Another dreaming world of love?’

‘Who knows, Lucy.  Who knows.  I see them in my dreams, like you do.  Some faces familiar now.  As if I had known them, yet never met them of course.’

‘Perhaps they are people yet to be, brother.  Perhaps they are people yet to be.’

‘Or maybe products of Dreams overly fertile imagination.’