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The Angels Saga

REBIRTH

Olde World Dominions

by

Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

Copyright 6181 SC

STORIES: 

PART ONE – OLDE WORLD DOMINIONS

A Woman's Voice

Wormdrogan

Keltarium

The Association of American Supreme States Helping Out Lovers Everywhere Superlatively

Zionistya 6

Sunshine and Rainbows 2

Madai & Javan's Lesson

Natalendriel

Uniford

Sunshine and Rainbows 3

Paradision III

Olde World Dominions

 Wormdrogan 2

 Keltarium II

The Edge of Taylor Swift

 

*PART TWO – THE OBLIVION TUBE*

 We've Gotten This Far

 Responsa Divinum

 Cookies

 Saruviel's Rebuke

 The Oblivion Tube

 Secure the Food Supply

 Kevin's Angst

 Sitting in the Chair

 Sheol Blues

 Keltarium III

 4 Rabbits

 Sunshine and Rainbows 4

 Raguel

 Saruviel: On Through the Sands of Infinite Progression III

 Zionistya 7

 Wormdrogan 3

The Association of American Supreme States Helping Out Lovers Everywhere Superlatively 2

 Phanuel and Brindabel 3

 Kevin's Angst 2

 Uriel

 Keltarium IV

 Slavery Questions

 Taylor Swift

 Ruth 28

 Wormdrogan 4

 God Made Me Special

 Keltarium V

 Uniford 2

 The New Districts of Zaphora II

 Dance With the Angels

 Wormdrogan 5

 Kevin's Angst 3

 Kelly and Her Platonic Buddy Kevin

 Cookies 2

 Saruviel's Rebuke 2

Saruviel's Rebuke 3

Keltarium VI

 Daniel 7

 Two Wives

Cloud Ten


PART THREE – RAINY DAYS

 Cloud Ten II

Passions

Harvest Tales

Rainy Days

Shemrael on Ice

Rainy Days 2

Shemrael on Fire

Harvest Tales 2

Paradision IV

Ruth 29

Paradision V

Rainy Days 3

Children of Destiny

Draven in Zaphon Library

Kwintakel at Senersphon

Maryanna the Cherubim

4 O'Clock 22

Rainy Days 4

Meludiel Makes Magic

Rainy Days 5

 



*PART ONE*

 

*OLDE WORLD DOMINIONS*

 

 

*A Woman's Voice*

 

Penidwael, the 96th female cherubim of the Realm of Eternity, walked

towards the cave.  The field was lush with flowers, and she felt like the

Queen of Bosnia, full of pride, full of nobility.  She walked towards the

cave, inching nearer to it step by step.  But then she came to the well,

and looked down into it.  She could spy countless coins. The well of the

Kalros Ranges, on the highest peak, in the meadow, near the cave, always

entranced her.  People came and climbed the mountain to cast in a penny,

and make a wish.  She cast in a penny ,and made a wish, and proceeded to

the cave.  She was soon at the entrance, and the dragon came out.

 

I have made a wish that you would speak true to me, dragon.’

 

The dragon looked at her.  ‘Why would I do that?  I am fabled for my

fabulous twisted tales.’

 

I wish to know one truth.  At the beginning, where you the firstborn of

eternity.’

 

I am the first, and the last, and the beginning and the end,’ said the

dragon.

 

Sounds indeed fabulous,’ replied Penidwael.

 

The first of dragons, and the last of dragons, the beginning of them, and

the end of them.  I sired the lot, and am judge of them all on any last day

you may throw at me.  I spoke truly.  As for my rank of birth mongst the

faerie folk, I came along soon enough.  Tis all you need to know.’

 

Thank you dragon,’ replied Penidwael.  ‘May I ride your back?’

 

The dragon lowered its neck and Penidwael  hopped on.   The dragon then

took to the skies.  Penidwael could see all of Zaphora and the new area of

the land also, and her eyes wandered over it avidly.

 

Those boots look mighty expensive,’ said the dragon.  ‘What are they made

of.’

 

Dragon skin,’ replied Penidwael.

 

Surely you jest,’ replied the dragon.

 

I tell as much truth as you, noble beast.’

 

Touche, fair Penidwael.  And I think your ride is finished.’  That said

the dragon turned upside down, and Penidwael fell hurtling to the earth.

 

Oh, bother,’ said Penidwael.  ‘I’ve not used the damn wings for aeons.’  

But she drew them out, and flexed them carefully.  Just before she hit the

ground she spread them, and managed to slow down just enough to hit the

ground with a thud, but otherwise intact.  She looked up at the dragon, who

flew majestically in the sky, and decided not to risk a dragon boot joke

again.  Once bitten, twice shy, Penidwael reminded herelf, and tripsed

through the meadow, down to the real world below, and back to her real life.

 

* * * * *

 

Aclyos is a heathen infidel!’ exclaimed Queen Jandy, the 41st female

Cherubim of Eternity, about the King of Aclyos, the cherubim Aclyophenes,

her twin.

 

My lady,’protested her lady in waiting, Gemmadel.  ‘You must not speak so

of the King.  He is our fair Lord and King.’

 

He sits with this tart Gwen of Locksley and sups with her as if she is his

own wife.  My God, the lady wears pants.  She is no lady.  She is a beast.’

 

Gwen is Robin’s daughter,’ replied Gemmadel.  ‘And the people fawn after

her in her father’s image.  She is of fame and lore and legend.  They all

adore her, and her bows and arrows, and her risk taking and her adventure.  

She has the heart of the people.  But I know in truth she is a lady.  It is

just her modern way to dress so.  Yet she does not go off into the modern

world, and never would.  It is just how some ladies are, dear Queen.  A

touch of the masculine within them.  I dare say you have heard in some

modern nations women play ‘Football’ and ‘Box’ and all sort of masculine

behaviours.  Gwen is far from such shenanigans.  She is a lady, queen.’

 

She is a boy in womens……well, not clothing.  Quite obviously.  And she has

dark designs on my husband, I am sure of this.  She won’t rest till she has

bedded him, and made herself queen in my place.’

 

Dear Lady Jandy, the King would never forsake his own twin and bride,’

protested Gemmadel.

 

Bah.  Here, help me put on my bra.  I must make use of this more modern

thing if I am to impress my Lord.  I shall put on a red dress, of modern

type, and order the jester to play a ‘rock n roll’ song when the king is

next around.  And we shall dance ‘The Twist’.

 

Gemmadel laughed. ‘I know my lady is jesting,’ she said.

 

I need the bra regardless,’ replied Jandy.  ‘It helps with my – cleavage.  

They are, as you can see, substantial, and a properly fitting bra is

ladylike enough.’

 

Gemmadel helped the queen put on her bra, and then put on the red dress,

which was quite formal and of the olde world.

 

I would say if you make friendship with Gwen it may go a way to a bridge

of understanding,’ said Gemmadel.  ‘She is not the marrying type.  At least

not to our king.  There are others she has known and loved, and she is

waiting a particular type of brave soul, one I fear more akin to her

father’s brave soul.  This I know from dialogue at court.’

 

Humph,’ replied Jandy.  ‘I’d not talk to the tart.’

 

I shall arrange her to visit,’ said Gemmadel.

 

You do that,’ replied the Queen.  ‘But I shall sip tea, and glare at her,

and remain silent.’

 

You will speak at length, my lady,’ replied Gemmadel.  ‘Or I’ll have words

to your mother.’

 

No!  Not Helda!’ excalaimed Jandy.  ‘I should sack you Gemmadel.’

 

You can’t do that.  I’m in the King’s employ, and he is quite specific in

what I can lecture you on to keep you on the straight and narrow.  I have

great leniencies.’

 

I shall speak to Gwen.  But she shall know her place.’

 

How could I expect anything else,’ replied Gemmadel, as the rain started,

and another afternoon passed in the Kingdom of Aclyos in the Olde World.

 

* * * * *

 

'Listen, Nadiel. The scroll of prophecy is firm and fixed. It is

immutable,' said the Jewish prophet Daniel, 7th male cherubim of eternity.

 

'It is a contraption of Gabriel and co, and not the Father's word,' replied

his twin Nadiel.

 

'Nay. Tis the very word of God,' declared the prophet.

 

Daniel spent the rest of the week reading commentary after commentary on

his own magnificent accomplishment, before retiring to a palace in Elam,

and thinking on the issue. Was he deluded? Could it just be the angels at

play, in the end, who inspired his 12 chapters divine? Could it be that he

had been taken for a fool all along? He could not imagine that could

possibly be the case in all of eternity. But Nadiel had made salient point

after salient point regarding the prophecies and their apparent

limitations, and Daniel was not, now, quite so sure of himself. He was,

now, not quite so sure of his standing. He sat, looking out over a field in

Elam, and was in a mood. It would need to be resolved. The twin would have

to be corrected, in time, and brought to the light. But then again, he

would have to listen, and observe her words, and cogitate thereon, for she

was not a fool nor a dullard, and had a good mind, and had insight in that

mind. Was she speaking truly? Did she really know that his book was of

angelic origin and nought more? And in that angelic origin was it, in the

end, ultimately a fallible document? He could not dare dream that

possibility, but had to. For he saw himself, in arguments in his own soul,

time and time again that certain completions of the prophecy appeared –

lacking. That it did not stand up to the toughest of inquistions. But, for

now, he would keep faith in his word, and give Nadie's commentary some

thought, but go on with his Torah observances and his Karaite faith, and

let Nadiel's protestations remain the views of the unlearned, not yet come

to grasp the inner mechanisms of the divine at play. Or so he hoped.

 

* * * * *

 

The ship sailed into the harbour. Nadiel was dressed in her dress with long

coat over the top, and stole away, into the night. A few leagues behind her

the assassin was following, the trail well understood, well marked. He came

to the shore, and spied the boat, now sailing away. He went to the harbour,

and looked at the posting of where the boat was headed. Jamaica. Very

interesting, he thought to himself. He looked after the boat, and turned,

walking steadily the 7 leagues back to the prior village.

 

 

Nadiel sat, counting her bronze coins. 456 of them. That should suffice.

Daniel. He was an idiot. Protective powers of a slug. Did not care at all

in the whole world about the fate of his twin these days. She was virtually

left to fend for herself. She looked out at the cliffs of Kuwait, and

watched as the shore steadily disappeared, and the long six month journey

to the first island began. The voyage had cost her 144 bronze coins, the

captain saying pour out some money, and she poured out so much, and he

looked at her and said 'We could use a maid for the helping with meals and

things,' and she had nodded. She was afraid. The council of 'Jarmaine' was

still not negotiating. They had an official assassin on her trail, and she

would barely be given notice if he chose to strike. He watched her. Every

year or so she spied him, in a corner of a tavern, or in a shop window,

peering at her, observing her. This was life in the 886thdisc of eternity,

an Olde World disc, which never changed its old values, and were women like

Nadiel were observed at every moment, a non-jewish woman, but a woman

indeed twin to a feared King, Daniel the Cherubim of Babylon, one its Kings

and Princes. If she could be caught up in a protestation of male dominance,

the Assassin would observe, and slinker up to her, and query her, just as a

citizen of the realm, and ask why doth the lady protest, and she would have

to answer as best she could. And if she was not truly feminine she would

end up with her throat cut, and waiting for her twin to bother praying her

up from Sheol. Blasted old world. But, in the end, she did not fear too

greatly, because despite the affectations towards modern angels of

Danielkind, she liked the old world moreso, and her twin was her thing more

now than in days of old, and she sailed the seas of the enormous 886th disc,

perhaps a woman of adventure, making money here and there, but returning to

her twin's lordship atimes, and submitting to his guidance, and lordship

upon her life. Even if not one of marital bliss and happiness, for he had

wives, and Nadiel was not for marrying to Daniel, not that he was against

an Asian bride, but more that he felt strength in her being the supportive

kind of twin as many did.

 

 

'I like salami's of various kinds,' said Nadiel to the captain. 'I cook

well with them.'

 

'We have a store of at least a dozen or so for our long voyage,' replied

the captain. 'And enough eggs for a few dozen omelettes before we are few.

We'll have a good meal tomorrow evening, but more scarce rationing will

come forth thereafter.'

 

Nadiel nodded, and went below to examine the pantry. She took stock of the

food, and the cook, drunk, smiled at her, and said 'Ye are welcome to do

all the cooking if you wish, jade queen.' She decided she would. She did

not think she could trust a meal cooked by such a gruffian.

 

And so they set sail, onto an endless ocean, for an island six months

distant, in a very long voyage to Jamaica, which would take, normally, from

her experiences, many a long yeart. But the assassin of Jarmaine was far

behind her, and perhaps would not follow this time, and so she settled into

this fair sojourn, and let the wind take her were it would.

 

* * * * *

 

Sharakalaniel was the 8th of the female Cherubim of Eternity. She was wise,

and old, and stately. She lived in a regal home, and decked herself

resplendid. Her twin was the Cherubim Ezeqiel, who hung around with the

other bad boys, Semyaza and co. Sharakalaniel was fond enough of her own

twin, but mostly kept her own affairs in these times. She lived as Queen,

Overseer, in the 700,148th disc of the Realm of Eternity, a discworld based

on the Olde World of things. She was that way, and did not like the modern

trends, and lived regally, in true fashion as befitted her status in the

rankings of Cherubim. Sharakondra she did not understand – all the power

and the glory under heaven available to her, and she ran a dismal modelling

agency, and got by on looking at pictures of vain beauty queens, when she

could have unlimited servants by taking up her overseer position of her own

disc and working with that. But to each their own. Sharakalaniel had

majestic clothes and majestic furniture, majestic carriages and majestic

estates. Her army at her command was large and strong, and well armed, but

mostly a thing of show, apart from an occasional need to bring marshal law

here and there in the disc to localities which were getting a little too

lively. She lived royally, she certainly acted royally, and that was what

she wanted and that was exactly what she got.

 

'Listen, Hardfifth. I do not need you lecturing on me on affairs of state,'

said Sharakalaniel.

 

'Your majesty, I am in your emply to do exactly this,' replied the

counsellr Rodrick Hardfifth.

 

'At my beck and call. Restrict yourself, and do not speak on the issue

again. The council of Olde World Dominions shall not have my subscription.

I'll be serving blasted Aclyos in the end at the head of such a council,

this I am without a doubt on, and he shan't have my crown.'

 

'A dominion is in our best interests,' replied Hardfifth. 'And you would

have equal sovereignty in all decision making.'

 

'Initially,' replied Sharakalaniel. 'But I know Aclyophenes. He's a crafty

old soul. Nay, speak not again on this issue.'

 

'As you wish your majesty,' replied Hardfifth.

 

The queen withdrew then to her chambers, and her lady in waiting helped her

take off her dress and corset. 'Fetch me a bra,' she said. 'I won't need

the corset this evening. My twin will be dining with me and has no need of

such vanities,' said Sharakalaniel to her lady in waiting.

 

The maid soon brought Sharakalaniel a bra, and helped her fit it on, and

soon the queen was in a more, certainly not common, but more plain dress of

simpler state, and looked in the mirror. 'I look appropriate, would you not

say?' she asked her lady in waiting.

 

'Her majesty always looks appropriate,' replied the maiden.

 

'Indeed,' replied Sharakalaniel.

 

That evening Ezeqiel supped with the queen in the private dining hall, not

the main hall were guests were often present, and they chatted about life,

and she caugh up with her twins comings and goings. And she exhorted him to

consider his own disc sometime and perhaps introduce some needed decorum

into his manners and ways of life. Yet he reminded her, when he pinched her

bottom, just what Ezeqiel the cherubim was made of, and while she giggled a

little, she was far from impressed. Not the fitting twin for eternal

devotion, certainly not at this point in his grand venture of life. But she

softened her heart, for Ezeqiel was her twin, and the night ended with a

dance, and she was happy enough with that. And then she retired for the

evening, thinking over the idea of the council of olde world dominions,

despite herself, and other thoughts also, as another day passed in the

700,148th disc of the realm of eternity, another day of life.

 

* * * * *

 

Penidwael looked at the invitation. Jandy the Cherubim had invited her to

come visit her in the 41st disc of the Realm of Eternity, an Olde World

Disc. In the older days the 229th disc had been the limitation of olde

world dominions. By no means was every disc to that point of the realm and

Olde World Disc, but some where. Yet, in time, other discs had gravitated

to the ancient style of doing things, and newer olde world dominions sprung

up all the time the further you went towards the rim. For example the large

886th disc of the realm was entirely olde world, and Sharakalaniel lived an

ancient world in the 700,148th disc. All between them, and further out

still were old world dominions here and there, places filled with angels

and now humans who took to the older world values, findind the modern way

of living not to their liking. Penidwael herself usually lived in Zaphora,

but had been gravitating to things faerie like over time, and it was the

olde world were the strength of faerie was really known. When people

believed in the magic.

 

'Dragon of Lies. Tell me the truth. How old are you and what is your magic?

Penidwael asked the dragon of the Kalros ranges.

 

The dragon considered the angel. She could be yummy, but eating angels

carried a severe penalty from the creator.

 

'My magic is legend, and all legends are true are they not. After all were

there is smoke – there is fire,' and the dragon blew out of his mouth a

huge torrent of flame into the skies.

 

Penidwael stood her ground. 'You talk in riddles, for the truth will help

conquer your breed,' said Penidwael.

 

'Then riddle me this, riddle me that, who is afraid of an overgrown rat? Or

is it a bat? We're definitely not cats? How do you speak?'

 

'Monkey's. Full of trickery and foolishness,' replied Penidwael.

 

'Alack, alas, they are of your kind, just lower down the scale, woman of

trickery,' said the dragon.

 

'I am going to the 41st disc shortly,' said Penidwael. 'And dragon's are

there in abundance. If you were taken there by large aeroplane, would you

travel their with me for an extended stay, and mix with your own kind.'

 

The dragon snorted, and scratched its back with its mouth.

 

'Chocolate,' said the dragon.

 

'What about chocolate?' asked Penidwael.

 

'Can you provide me with a large supply of chocolate for the trip. And a

large video screen so I may watch fantasy movies. I would like to watch the

Lord of the Rings trilogy and the Hobbit. Smaug is a champion of our kind.'

 

'Anything else?' asked Penidwael.

 

'An ample supply of hay for me to rest in, and that should suffice.'

 

'Then you will travel with me?' asked Penidwael.

 

'A change,' said the dragon. 'Is as good as a holiday, fair Penidwael.

Besides, I get lonely as well, and haven't bothered flying off outwards for

a long time. Will be good for me, and I might shed some skin when I get

there, and go for a dip or two.'

 

'Fascinating,' replied Penidwael. 'I'll take that as a yes then. I will

arrange things, now, henceforth. Till we meet again noble dragon.'

 

The dragon snorted, scratched its back once more, and nodded to Penidwael,

returning to his cave.

 

Penidwael looked at the dragon as it departed, smiled a little at its

sarcasm, and turned, returning herself to her real world, ready for her

next adventure.

 

* * * * *

 

He was drunk again. The cook. He was always drunk. She'd done all the

cooking so far, and each night she would see the bottles of rum show up on

her kitchen bench, and she would take them, and store them in the recycling

bin, with the other empty bottles of grog, which would be traded in with

the bottle man, which you found at most ports of call, who would pack them

up and send them back to the original supplier for a small fee. The cook,

whose name was Theodore Atkins, was a renowned drunk, and everyone on board

had informed Nadiel not to expect too much from him now with her doing the

cooking. And she had to do the lot. They were a transport ship for the most

part, but also a passenger ship for a small number of people. There was one

couple and a single gentleman also on board, apart from the crew. The ship

was full of storage boxes carrying this and that item, currently quite a

load headed for Jamaica, but also other ports of call. Jamaica would take

them several years to get to – 5 or so - at least the particular branch of

Jamaica they were headed to. This disc was a vast world, like all discs,

with so many parts of the various traditional countries scattered all over

the disc, with an array of other new nations and some particular to this

disc also, nations founded by this and that pioneer of adventure,

determined to build their own nation and make their own name.

 

'Theodore. You are lazy,' said Nadiel and kicked the drunkards boot.

 

'I can cook dinner this night,' said the cook in a slurred tone, and got to

his feet with a stagger, looked at Nadiel, belched, the smell of it being

atrocius, and looked at the kitchen. Then he reached into his overcoat,

produced a full bottle of rum and said 'I'll just have a sip to warm the

cockles.' Then he took a sip, and collapsed back down on the pile of empty

sacks in the corner of the kitchen and started singing bawdy sea songs.

 

'Pathetic,' said Nadiel, glared at him, and started peeling potatoes. She

truned to Theodore, brandishing her kitchen knife, and said 'I should shove

this up your cockles, you old goat.'

 

Theodore raised the bottle of rum to her in a toast-like fashion and sang

'The she-whore from Salford, she'd the smartest of wits, but not for such

was she famous, stead it was her big.....'

 

'Cretin!' screeched Nadiel, and kicked the cook in his boots once more,

which only brought a chuckle in response.

 

Nadiel returned to her potato peeling, enduring the lewd balladeering of

the cook, as the boat rocked from side to side, continuing its voyage.

 

* * * * *

 

'The virtues of the olde world are inscribed in the nature of creation,'

said Sharakalaniel. 'They are the natural things of angels and men. The

modern world is a different world, were values were reviewed and redefined

and reshaped. They got so many things backwards, and out of order, and

because of so much secular viewpoint they let go of what worked and started

working with what didn't. They did settle, but men were no longer men –

women were. The feminine retreated and the bane of sense, equality, reared

its ugly head, and they were lost for understanding devoted relationship,

more concerned with getting laid, and not always with that of the opposite

sex, I do say. Still, to this day, they argue and moan, and will not do the

work in the home which is set by nature for each to do, and the women still

crusade for their equal right, and the men still retreat to their man

caves, the last bastion of male pride. Still, the future world got over a

lot of the idealism of the politically correct, and returned to a more

natural way of things, imbued with new and grand technology, but the

children born in time sensible enough, with all their vast liberties

available to them, to not really give a damn and just do what they wanted

to do. And the natural instincts returned, and as they did not care, the

Lord moulded sanity back into society, and Han Solo bedded Leia, and a

rogue was still a rogue. They still remembered the difference of the sexes,

while the in between confused everything.'

 

Ezeqiel picked up the scroll Sharakalaniel had presented to him and began

reading through it. He picked himself up, and went to sit on the couch in

the corner of the room, next to the fireplace, and read the evening away.

Sharakalaniel observed him, wondering his thoughts on her writing, but let

it be. Best he think over what was written a day or two before she query

his response. She picked at the plate of dinner, now cold, still on the

table in front of her, and took a glass of wine. She sipped slowly, and

stared at the clock above the fireplace. Her thoughts meandered. She

thought on her world, and its values, and then she thought on the comings

and goings of her servants, and then she thought on the room she was in,

and how life was suited to her in what she represented, and had made its

image in what she represented, because that was what she wanted. And the

justification for all this she believed was found in that others, too,

agreed with her, and found their values agreeable with her own. Birds of a

feather she finally thought, before she picked herself up, came and kissed

Ezeqiel on the cheek who was stll reading, wished him a good night, and

retired to her chamber, tired at the end of another day.

 

* * * * *

 

Daniel the prophet of Israel looked at the letter. It was dated 3 years

prior, from his twin. Sent from an Island a fair distance from Elam, south

west along the ocean, a stop-off place to greater isles. It had travelled

on a ship, up to Arabia, and sent from there to Elam. She was working as a

cook, on a ship, her passage paid in bronze coins, but only as a token, for

she had to work as cook to satisfy the fare set by the captain. To Jamaica

she was bound, to lose the trail of the Jarmaine assassin, who bothered her

yet still. Daniel thought on that. Quite an amusement. 40 odd years of

outspoken behaviour on modern values from Nadiel had broght the ire of the

council of Jarmaine, and they'd spoken with Daniel and told him they'd

assigned an assassin to kill her if necessary, if she at all displayed such

future flagrant unbecoming behaviours. He nodded, and declared their legal

right, and left the situation be. But he'd spoken with Nadiel and she knew

she was a marked woman and that, with her shrewish temperament, she'd best

keep her judges at a distance, and travel a constant, and mind her words,

for they'd do her in at a moments notice should they be given legal

opportunity from a foolish word or deed Nadiel spoke in her modern

paradigm. She hissed at him that evening, but softened later, and said they

had no right to enforce such a barbarity. But he'd reminded her that values

were cultural and not all cultures shared the same worldview and that in

the olde world, which she confessed she preferred for their civility, she

would have to be cautious. If she could but settle down, and mind her

business, she would do well. But Nadiel is as Nadiel does, so she chose a

self imposed exile, and would be her self, in the olde world, and travel a

constant, escaping the judgmental eyes of her assassin follower, never

giving him opportunity to make good their decree upon her soul, never

giving them opportunity to find guilt with which they could soundly, quite

bluntly, do her in. Daniel had a supply of her letter, her adventures, and

he kept them in a chest, where he read them from time to time, and both

sighed and laughed at her ongoing frustrations, of finding acceptance, and

trying to persuade those set in their ways to adapt to a more liberal

understanding. But he could sense something, as time passed. She was

softening. Whether she liked it or not, she was softening, and adapting,

and gone was much of the vocabulary of the modern worlds, and her reliance

so much on their traditional comforts, for it seemed she was his twin in

the end for a reason, finding it hard to fit into a world she only

considered of value at its own historical period, which the realm had been

once, but had progressed hence into more civilize culture since. But then,

when Daniel had gravitated back to the old ways, and gradually left modern

trends alone in their modern worlds, she had ultimately followed, and was

going through growing pains, as it where, to find her salvation in the old,

and not in the new. Such was the trial of Nadiel the cherubim. He looked at

the letter, and read it twice, then took it to the chest, and filed it

away, and returned to his work that evening. But the night had spent the

last of his energy, and he turned to his bed, and knelt and prayed a prayer

for his twin's welfare, before getting in and settling down, blankets

covering him for the cold night, a day done, a new one beckoning.

 

* * * * *

 

They picked up a new passenger at Arcuda, where the single gentleman left

them. The new passenger was a diplomatic looking fellow, in fine clothing

one might imagine from upper class London society. Nadiel served him his

dinner in his cabin one evening, and he thanked her and asked her a

question.

 

'Nadiel the Cherubim. Why are you so stubborn?'

 

'Excuse me,' replied Nadiel. 'How do you know my name? Did the captain

mention it?'

 

'You are known, somewhat, in the disc. Regardless, your person comes into

my dialogue from time to time. The Council of Jarmaine is not that

impressed with you, as you know,' replied the gentleman.

 

'Jarmainian scum,' swore Nadiel. 'You are a curse to me.'

 

'Is that so,' replied the man. 'You take offense at the council?'

 

'I know they rule this damned discs virtues. I can't escape it wherever I

go. This olde world hates the modern more than most of the other

dominions,' replied Nadiel.

 

'Indeed,' said the man. 'Nay, I am not of the council. I merely interact

with them in my regular affairs.'

 

'Oh. I apologize for my words. They were hastily spoken.'

 

The man nodded, and took his meal, starting to eat.

 

'How do you know me?' asked Nadiel.

 

'You were mentioned,' said the man, not looking up. 'In dialogue regarding

the upcoming council discussions. It was suggested you speak for the

suffragettes.'

 

'Bah. They are timid as church mice,' replied Nadiel. 'They have no power

of true feminism.'

 

'They are much as our world will allow,' replied the man. 'But we do allow

them voice, when they constrain themselves to their place in the world. It

was suggested you speak on their behalf in the upcoming discussions.'

 

'What upcoming discussions?' asked Nadiel.

 

'The Council of Olde World Dominions intends to be formed. Aclyos is

pushing it heavily. Gwen Locksley has been selected from the 17th disc, the

oldest disc of Olde World habitation, to speak for the femme. Your

continued presence among us, the twin of Daniel who dwells here, has made

you, with your modern views, probably the logical choice to speak for the

fairer sex. You will speak with as much passion as you can, and we know it

well. That should suffice enough with what conditions you are able to

appropriate for women's affairs.'

 

'That is a joke,' said Nadiel. 'Not even anything approaching modern

values. The whole political world going on about women's affairs as if they

give a damn.'

 

'Oh, but we do,' replied the gentleman. 'There are hygiene issues which we

must ensure our women have proper access to, and a certain degree of

appropriate education and work responsibilities is being fleshed out even

as we speak to come to the appropriate and correct balance. Nay, I can't

say anything really has changed. But a woman has always had a place in the

world. We are attempting to formulate, as I said, the appropriate and

correct balance between the sexes.'

 

'I see,' replied Nadiel. 'And is this issue a part of the planned olde

world dominions?'

 

'If you keep your head,' it shall be. 'Lest Jarmaine run you through

beforehands for a too outspoken act of feminism.'

 

'Humph,' replied Nadiel. She went silent. 'Who would I speak to regarding

any such duty?'

 

'Speaking with me would suffice,' replied the man. 'I represent most

interests of British departments. Three kings have given me their seal of

approval. My name, of course, is Claude Montgommery. A lesser noble, but

somewhat well known public servant.'

 

'A good pleasure to meet you, Mr Montgommery. I shall consider your offer.

Which British domain would I be best to visit and express my interest?'

 

'King Alfred of Norwich is my greatest benefactor. London far up north

would be your best bet.'

 

'Very well. I shall consider the idea,' replied Nadiel. 'Enjoy your meal.'

And Nadiel curtsied, and left the man to eat in peace. She returned to the

kitchen, and kicked the drunken cook in the foot once more, but was

thinking over the words of Mr Montgommery, and the potential impact she

might have for the changes she felt she might want to impart to this

discworld.

 

* * * * *

 

Gemmadel sat by, crocheting, observing. The room was akin to the arctic –

the conversation icy, what little of it there was. Gwen played her cards in

her card game with Queen Jandy in stony silence, and Jandy seemed not the

protestor to the silence. They were quite happy to stay silent, neither

desiring the conversation of the other party. Gemmadel would spark things

up with her wisdom.

 

'Aclyos has a beard belonging three eras prior,' said Gemmadel. 'To say he

is old fashioned is an understatement. He is hardly 17th century

kingliness.'

 

'Barely the beginning of his archaic ways,' commented Jandy. 'Still, I'd

not change a thing. It is his grandeur which makes him appropriate royalty

for our world.'

 

'I dare say that would be true enough,' said Gwen. 'Grandness does come to

mind on Aclyophenes. Ancient ways, too. His Greek lore is in depth. The

gods speak through him still.'

 

'Indeed,' replied Jandy. 'Still, for these things I treasure him if truth

be known. He is stability in personal form. Little will he change his ways

or attitudes, and my comfort, as a Queen who is known for being a Queen of

strength, but still just that – a Queen – is that my King knows how to be a

King, and not an effeminate court loverboy. They are almost too obvioius,

with their neck scarves, and that tone in their voice. I mean, come on, is

it a universal law that they must all talk as such? Must be a spirit of

ancient sodom at play or something. A universal truth of gay lore and

custom.'

 

'The loverboy's attract a regent prince or two from other dominions,'

stated Gwen. 'Those Frenchies have a large supply it seems, and Aclyos does

well to keep the Loverboy's in his employ. The strength of the Kingdom of

Aclyos is its practicality, and insight into how human's truly function. We

are not governed by morality. We are governed by desire versus instinct.'

 

'An interesting philosophy for an English lady, so many of whom caught up

in Elizabeth's chastity club. But, of course, you are not like that, are

you fair Gwen,' replied Jandy.

 

'Queen Jandy has such a sense of humor,' wisely interrupted Gemmadel. 'I am

quite sure you are as chaste as any a maiden of your standing.'

 

'Naturally,' replied Gwen, looking guiltily away from the other two.

 

'He has chosen you, of course, to champion the femme in his olde world

council. I am sure he has chosen wisely. In his own careful thinking,' said

Jandy, the slightest stress on the word careful, a stress not misunderstood.

 

'Indeed he has,' interrupted Gemmadel for the second time. 'Gwen shall

champion us with skill and determination. No better spokeswomen I can think

of.'

 

'Indeed,' replied Queen Jandy.

 

'Indeed,' finished Gwen.

 

* * * * *

 

The Aeroplane landed safely and soundly, having travelled quite quickly

from Zaphora to the 41st disc of the realm, to the dominion of Aclyos on

the disc. Seraphim Kalenuel was overseer of the 41st disc of the realm, the

disc of Kalenuphora, the capital city being Washington. It was an extremely

large disc, and was predominantly of a culture of east American in nature.

But there were a large supply of other nations present, in fact,

technically, all major early cultures were represented here and there, and

there was a strong presence of olde world dominions, the largest of which

being the Kingdom of Aclyos, ruled by Cherubim Aclyohphenes. Aclyophenes

was Greek in his cultural heritage, of middle ages period in things, and

his culture was solidly middle ages bordering on renaissance. There was a

small degree of technology present, which was not necessarily disavowed,

but by far from the norm of the land. In olde world dominions capital

cities, in the prestigious upper class sections, would assume for

themselves a certain degree more of modern contraption, which was afforded

by their wealth and standing, in the general way the olde world judged

itself. By all means, though, dip right into modern world society and tech

galore, but why really bother with the olde world if that was your fancy.

That was the truisms which prevailed throughout the olde worlds of the

realm, and these customs were quite literally enforced as both custom and

rule of law. It attracted those who did not want or need the comforts of

the modern lifestyle, who were more akin to the natural world of ancient

history, and were electricity and computers and things were not to be

touched, lest it was a scientist of considerable standing, who may afford a

calculator or some such similar device, being deemed appropriate in that

 

culture and way of thinking in the olde world.

 

'How was your trip, Dragon?' asked Penidwael.

 

'It's good to be out of that monstrosity,' replied the dragon. 'I fear my

hay is full of more dung than all the chamber pots you could find in all

Aclyos.'

 

'I did notice,' replied Penidwael. 'Did you enjoy your chocolate and movie

entertainment.'

 

'Gollum was a delight,' replied the dragon.

 

'Why does it not surprise me you'd say as such,' said Penidwael.

 

'Do I flap my wings hence, or have you a sufficient chariot for the next

part of our journey?' asked the dragon.

 

'That mountain range,' said Penidwael, pointing to a mountain range to the

north of the airport. 'Follow it till it ends in a large lake. Go to the

northern side of the lake, and you'll find the King's Highway. Aclyos'

throne city is at the end of that highway.'

 

'I shall enjoy my trip then,' replied the dragon. 'But take my time. And

that lake sounds ideal for a day or two of frolicking. I wonder, these

mountains? Are they known for my kind?'

 

'50 leagues northward of here the border of Aclyos begins. This was the

closest I could get us, as there are not air or spaceports in the Kingdom.

But I have heard you may indeed find olde world dragons here and there in

Aclyos. Good luck.'

 

The dragon smiled its dragon smile at Penidwael, stretched its wings, and

took to the air. Penidwael watched it fly north, and smiled, then continued

on to get her luggage and resume the rest of her journey.

 

* * * * *

 

Daniel examined the scroll. '500 gold pieces?' he queried the messenger.

'Why so many?'

 

'It would guarantee your presence. The money is redeemable at the end of

the conference. King Aclyos does not want committed attendees who do not

show due to other unforseen circumstances. The money is also far less than

he wanted, but was convinced of a far more reasonable sum by various

parties.'

 

'Queen Jandy no doubt,' commented Daniel, looking again at the invitation.

'3 years notice? Plans are made very slowly in the olde world. Much time is

needed for consideration. Why so sudden?'

 

'It is an inquisition, nothing more. Official just an inquisition. Into the

proposal of a council of Olde World Dominions in practical reality. A

discussion on the idea by various notaries of the olde world. He has

invited over 3000 to the conference, and it is to be set in a grande

chamber indeed, one of the largest halls of parley I have ever seen. You

might almost consider it a conference room of the very modern world, if

such a thing was not unbecoming to our way of life.'

 

'Indeed,' replied Daniel. 'I'll not pay. But I'll attend. He has my word on

that. Take that message to Aclyos.'

 

'As you wish, noble King of Chaldeans.' The messenger bowed, and left, and

Daniel returned to his desk. It was a bit of a hide asking for 500 gold

pieces to attend a mere inquiry, but it would seem Aclyos was quite serious

in the new plans he had made. They were known well enough, his desire for

this olde world united dominion. It had been posited he desired good trade

and a degree of universalization of some legal precepts. A more common

understanding on things. Realm law often wanted to interfere, the degrees

of eternity's political system, but the olde world paid all of that scant

regard. Old policies from the heyday of the Realm of Eternity prevailed,

but the olde world had long ago gotten over playing ball with the

machinations of the political powers of the realm. They'd do it the olde

way, and not bother to sign treaties and alliances and trade agreements and

all the modern things which the realm was full of. They were the olde

world, they did not need all its modern luxuries and all its modern

conveniences. But in the thinking and logic of the olde world, as

Aclyophenes reasoned, there was a decorum and approach for a certain degree

of common unity, and it was this subject he wished broached. Daniel would

attend, more for personal interest than anything, and see what would come

of the matter. But, for now, his regular Kingly duties, and the next move

in his chess game against a noble in the court, a good friend, who had made

a good move with a bishop, which Daniel had been puzzling on for days.

 

* * * * *

 

'Robin Hood – is a legend,' said Noah.

 

'And so is a giant boat full of beasts two by two,' replied Gwen of

Locksley.

 

'Touche, fair maiden,' replied the Ark Builder. 'But in this life eternal

legends become real. And what was myth transforms into historical fact.'

 

'So, tell me. Was it two pairs of everything, or seven pairs of

everything?' queried Gwen.

 

'The scripture elucidates the answer,' said Noah. 'Two of unclean, seven

pairs of clean.'

 

'And that is historical fact, then, is it?' asked Gwen.

 

'The scripture is the record and the record is the scripture. You'll get no

more detail from me than what is recorded. Less you have a deep abiding

interest in the covenant faith, that is.'

 

'Mmm,' replied Gwen. 'I'm probably too much of a Roman Catholic for such a

reality,' said Gwen. 'At least in tradition. Jesus is the love of my life,

and I'll not swap him for a rainbow warrior.'

 

'Nor should you, fair maiden,' said Noah. He looked at the map in front of

him. 'The 41st disc of the realm of Eternity. Done in the olde style. The

cartographers of this epic must be proud of themselves. I notice the

skyscrapers representing the major modern cities. Cute touch.'

 

Gwen looked down at the map. 'The differentiation of modern and olde, and,

if you notice, here on the right, the lovely space ship of future world, is

something they've done quite deliberately.'

 

'Why?' asked Noah.

 

'This map is popular,' said Gwen. 'And they olde world wants to remind its

citizenship in no uncertain terms what the olde world is, and what it is

not.'

 

'I see,' said Noah.

 

Gwen took out a cross from her pocket, and handed it to Noah. He examined

it. 'An emblem of your faith?'

 

'It's not my faith,' she replied. 'It's my tradition. I have faith in God,

not in Jesus of Nazareth. He's fallible humanity, and I am not naieve. But

our tradition is strong, and I shan't betray it.'

 

'Do you have classical artwork on the arks?' asked Noah.

 

Gwen looked at him. 'I have a piece with my family, at their estate. In a

box. A collection of various pieces of artwork, cut out from a more modern

magazine.'

 

'I see,' said Noah. 'Would you partake of an artist friend of mine and his

ongoing work of ark picture painting? He has a central work he modulates

regularly, with variation of colours. He's an endless supply to work

through, well, nearly. And he is currently doing purple with burgundy

styles. You could put it up at home?'

 

'A kind gesture,' replied Gwen. 'Now, father. What do you wish to ask me?'

 

'Aclyos sent me a letter. Not long ago. He queried how the children of

heaven handle the subject of femininity and the apparent rights of the

fairer sex since the beginning of things. And, not so much to share that

knowledge with me, but yourself, who he intends to represent as a

spokesperson in his upcoming council.'

 

'Yes, I know,' said Gwen. 'Well then. What would you say?'

 

'That life creates its own rules, regardless of the times and what people

think should be,' said Noah. 'And that nobody follows tradition in the end,

but that they do as they damn well please. And when they get very old they

are set in their ways, and gravitate to where they belong instead of

reshaping the world in their image. The olde world has shaped itself by a

populace who prefer the olde world's way of things. You nearly need know

from the children of heaven that we love our women, and they speak their

mind freely when pressed to do as such.'

 

'I see,' said Gwen.

 

'So speak your own thoughts, and don't hold back, for Jarmaine won't

criticize your right to express yourself at a council formed for that

particular point. He may indeed disagree, but your expression will be

allowed.'

 

'Then I will have to think long and carefully upon my words,' said Gwen.

 

Noah nodded and looked at the map. 'I'll have that painter sent to you when

you return to Londinnum.'

 

'As you wish, father,' replied Gwen of Locksley.

 

* * * * *

 

Jarmaine was a Muslim. His breed was Quran alone as the principle of

guidance. He also accepted the Rainbow Torah as his offical religion. Islam

was the creation of Mohammed, and not Allah, let his name be praised. But

after a billion prayers to Allah in the name of Islam that ceased to be

much of an issue anyway. The community was established, and Jarmaine,

having been born into that community, was a part of it, and that was just

the way it was. And then he died and came to the New Terra new arrivals

department, and they shuffled him off to New Terra 47. And then he applied

for a visa to the Realm of eternity, and settled in the 886th disc of the

realm, and having found work, his visa was renewd many times, as his

employers always commented on his reliability to immigration. And he

applied for a permanent visa and, due to his outstanding record, it was

approved. He was dark skinned, from Africa, and his friends were muslims of

similar nature in various locales in the 886th disc, and Rophiel the

Seraphim, Mohammed himself, was as popular as any of the iconoclasts which

dominated the realm of eternity. And in the name of Rophiel he gathered

friend muslims, and founded the council of Jarmaine. And it grew. In time

they made allegiances with Christians and Jews and Noahide groups, and in

Noahidism he found his official faith. And in the olde world which

gradually took shape in the 886th disc, he settled, for it was what he had

prayed for somewhat, and what he was given, and with his council they

formed a lore of work which was the morality codes of much of the thinking

of many. They were the traditions and ways of life in the olde world which

Jarmaine insisted upon, and was strong in his views, and they came to

dominate at times. But it was not the only agenda, for each religion kept

its own individuality, alongside the standard Seraphim and Cherubim Torah

teaching and communities of the Realm, but it was strong, and an interest

group, and it represented one of the powers of the Olde World. And while

Jarmaine had not foreseen his destiny, nor much planned it out to be as

such, that is how things came out. Within the Council of Jarmaine, though,

as would find in any religion of intent, where the more fundamental

members, those who took its teaching very seriously, and to heart, and were

of a view that the 'Lukewarm' needed to be corrected and admonished and

guided more clearly to 'See the Light'. And in that spirit was 'Dominic of

Laville' to see his purpose in life. For the 'Lavilleans' were a secret

order within the Council of Jarmaine, and they would ensure its message and

work were represented and upheld in society and, when things which reared

their ugly heads, like the intent of King Aclyos and his recent desire for

a council of olde world dominions, it was an issue of interest and news,

but when within that intent there was a voice to be given to women to speak

their mind, like a man should and like only a man should, then the

Lavilleans would take keener interest. And as the role of women was set in

stone, as Eve, being the help meet, must submit to her husband, measures

were deemed necessary to be taken. And the Lavilleans were not unfamiliar

with the more serious measures, as any history student of the wars of Jihad

and Crusade could dutifully inform you.

 

* * * * *

 

'A dragon is as a dragon does,' said the dragon. 'And I am in a frisky

mood, my dear. How about it?'

 

'I'm a Wyvvern, you imbecile,' said the black and golden wyvvern. 'We are

not compatible.'

 

'Oh, we are compatible my dear. Dragvern's are common. And I've met many a

feisty Wyvvagon that I know all too well our coupling is divinely ordained.'

 

'Keep on dreaming,' said the wyvvern, proudly. 'Besides. You have a

reputation. My father told me all about the pride of Kalros Hill. Thinks

himself the ruler of our kind.'

 

'But I am my dear. The noblest and fiercest of the lot,' said the dragon,

and breathed out a bolt of fire in demonstration of his proud words.

 

'Will take more than that to bed me, dragon of pride. And a Dragvern is

hardly fitting as the firstborn of noble Rhaemliel Genta Bloodfire,'

replied the wyvvern.

 

'A virgin as well. Tis my lucky day,' said the dragon, and he came forward

and rubbed his head against the wyvverns neck.

 

'Smooth are you,' said the wyvvern, drawing away. 'But you'll not conquer

me.'

 

The dragon continued rubbing her neck, and with a claw scratched her back.

'Does that feel good?' He asked.

 

She turned and looked at him, and batted her eyelashes. The dragon grinned,

and came behind, and mounted her. A few hefty heaves and pushes, and, his

seed burning into his mistress, he withdrew, and lay down, promptly falling

asleep. She lay down next to him, bewailed her lost virginity for a moment,

but let it pass. It was time enough anyway.

 

* * * * *

 

Nadiel sat on the swing, looking at the ship down the hill in the harbour.

There were other ships in the harbour at their current port of call, and

while she had softly inquired whether any might perchance be heading

northwards, she had only inquired. One, indeed, was destined for a similar

part of the disc where she might take herself, but she had dismissed this

as just curiousity. Besides, who would give that damned Theodore Atkins the

kick he needed. Nay, she'd not take up the diplomat on his offer. It was

hard enough keeping her tracker at bay, the blasted assassin of Jarmaine.

She hardly needed advertising herself to the whole olde world with what

surely would be perceived of as the feminist rantings of Nadiel the

Cherubim. But, as she sat there, swinging in the moonlight, her pride rose

up, and she said to herself. 'No. No, I should not let that blasted

Jarmaine dictate all my affairs and comings and goings. To hell with him. I

shall speak my mind. Damned if I won't.' And thus, having determined in her

heart on her next course of action, she jumped of the swing, came down the

hill to the inn, and found the captain she had inquired of earlier that

day. And offering her services as cook or some other servile position for

her passage, he was agreeable enough that he could find good use for the

maiden, and she returned to her prior ship, gathered her meagre belongings,

and found Theodore in the kitchen, drunk and asleep on the sacks, and

kicked him one last time in the foot. Then one last time more for good

measure, before looking at him, and reaching down, touching his chin,

saying 'See you around Theo'. And then she was gone, off to the other ship,

and soon enough headed northwards to make inquiries of good King Alfred of

Norwich, and what role she could determinedly represent for the voice of

the female in the olde world.

 

* * * * *

 

'Well, father. Isn't this a fine and dandy thing. The highways of Aclyos,

on to the throne city of the King,' said Gwen of Locksley to her ancient

grand father of past generations, dear old Noah.

 

'I've been down this road before,' said Noah. 'When it was young. The pines

look hauntingly familiar. And the spirit is the same, as you would imagine.

That is something of this creation of Elohim. It changes everyday, but it

stays the same everyday.'

 

'My life speaks the same plot,' said Gwen. 'Working in the guild, the same

four walls of the room I both work and sleep in. Oh, its a wonderful room,

and large enough, and Perlock is fine company. And he always has a new

joke, a new jest, a new charade. But it's the consistency, rather than the

modulation, that, I don't know. That you notice, I suppose. Or maybe what

you rely on. To find the courage to endure this life and persist.'

 

'They say God is faithful. I say that myself,' said Noah. 'And the rising

of the sun and the setting of the sun keeps us on our steady course.'

 

The carriage went silent for a while, and Noah started snoozing. Suddenly,

though, a crossbow bolt burst through the back of the carriage, just

missing Gwen's head, and Noah awoke startled.

 

'We're under attack!' yelled Gwen, reaching for her bow and quiver of

arrows, which she religiously took with her on her travels.

 

'I'm sure you can handle it. Wake when it's over,' said Noah, putting his

head back to snooze once more.

 

Gwen looked at him incredulously, and then, with her weapons, climbed out

onto the top of the carriage. Behind them, on horseback, an armed man, with

a crossbow. He was currently reloading, and Gwen yelled at the driver to

stop the carriage. The carriage slowed, and stopped, and Gwen held up her

bow, arrow drawn, pointing it at her assailant. 'Mark my words. You'll be

dead before you can fire that thing!' yelled Gwen.

 

The man put down his crossbow, and drew up next to the carriage. He began

to speak in a hoarse voice. 'A woman must know her place. The actions of

Gwen of Locksley are unfitting for the olde world. We know well of the

upcoming council, and the plans made to include yourself as a speaker. But

I warn you, make sure you speak submissive words at the council. The woman

must know her place. If you don't, these crossbolts will fire more true

next time.'

 

'I don't fear you,' replied Gwen. 'My father is Robin of Locksley. He

commands respect throughout all the realm.'

 

'And it is your father who will weep on your grave. Mark my words,' said

the man, glared at her a moment, and turned his horse, taking off back up

the road just travelled down. Gwen watched him go, arrow still aiming at

him and, frustrated, released it, but it hit a tree in the forest nearby.

She returned to the carriage, ordered the driver to resume travel, and as

the carriage started again, she looked at Noah and nudged him.

 

'You handled it?' he asked.

 

'With no help from the likes of you,' she replied, glaring at him hotly.

 

'Who could not respect the daughter of Robin Hood,' said Noah, and again

put his head back, going off to sleep.

 

Gwen stared at him and said 'Unbelievable.' Then she sighed, put her bow

and arrow back on the floor, but not too far out of reach, and looked out

the window at the passing trees, her mind thinking over the events that had

just transpired.

 

* * * * *

 

'You know, at least a wyvvern has some decorum in the end. They are humbled

by their slightly smaller size compared to the dragons fierce, but in that

humility they act accordingly, and BEHAVE THEMSELVS. You, Dragon. You have

no conscience.'

 

'Bah,' replied the dragon. 'I was merely doing as a dragon does.'

 

'Were have I heard that before,' replied Penidwael. 'I mean, it's really

fascinating. A dragon comes to Aclyos to have a lovely holiday, carefully

arranged by a senior cherubim of good name and reputation.'

 

The dragon raised his eyebrow on that point.

 

'And what does he do? Promises a light dip in a lake, and goes about

upsetting the fisherman with his playful antics, which are more akin to the

wrath of a kraken, and flits about everywhere, spewing out flames of fire,

and scaring the living hell out of the community. And, if that's not

enough, he raids the Aclyonian Chocolatiers Factory, and spends half an

afternoon devouring their supplies of chocolate and caramel and fudge.

Stuff relied upon for future profiteering. You haven't exactly kept a low

profile, you know. I hear King Aclyos is strongly considering letting out a

troop of knights to teach you a lesson you most obviously deserve. You have

behaved beneath your station, noble beast.'

 

The dragon lowered his head, embarrased, and snorted out a tiny bolt of

fire. 'I haven't had a decent romp in ages,' he said softly. 'Penidwael, I

am a wild creature, and sometimes we need to let loose and have a bit of a

wild time. It's only our way.'

 

'You will curb all future exuberance, or I won't plead with the King again

for mercy. I'll lead the charge myself.'

 

'Yes Penidwael,' said the dragon, softly. 'I'll be more cautious in the

future.'

 

'You had better,' replied the Cherubim. The dragon had been rebuked, and

Penidwael was satisfied with her lecture. She could hardly afford to have a

reputation for bringing a crazed beast into Aclyos, to disturb all and

sundry. So she'd had her words, but came over, stroked the dragon on its

neck, which it liked, and started singing softly to it, a tune it liked and

she'd sung before, and the dragon, she swore, purred softly.

 

'Crazy beast,' she said to it. It snorted a small bolt of flame once more.

 

* * * * *

 

'The British dominion of Norwich is neither progressive nor conservative.

It's not that simple,' said King Alfred. 'We are truth, but a living truth.

A vibrant truth, of a reed in the river, which bends with the wind. But as

we all know the wind blows were it will from day to day. And sometimes a

northerly has become a constant feature, and it is predictable and a

settled thing. But a southerly takes over, and the reed, naturally, bends

to accommodate. Dear Lady Nadiel. I am happy to sponsor you and give you

place in Norwich's time at the upcoming council for the proposal of a

united olde world dominionship. I know well you'll speak of a woman's voice

in the olde world, and who can not say that at times a woman should not

express herself. If we take too much for granted as menfolk resentment will

set in, and a woman scorned is a woman to be feared.'

 

'Thank you your majesty,' replied Nadiel. 'I shall speak with words which

do you no dishonour.'

 

'I caution you, twin of King Daniel, that the council of Jarmaine has much

power and influence. There are those that will be present who would see you

rather hang from the gallows than speak your mind. They are stones, set in

their way, unwilling to flex with the changing seasons. Be sensible and

exercise caution and prudence – remember that – caution and prudence. That

pretty little head should remain attached to those shoulders. Dare the

wrath of Jarmaine too much and I fear it may not always be as such.'

 

'I shall speak my mind. But I shall heed thine words also, dear King. I am

not silly. I have not gotten this far down the pathway of eternity without

having learned a thing or two, you know.'

 

'Let us hope that remains the case,' replied the King. 'Now, no more

discussion. We will listen to the lute player and enjoy a spot of wine.'

 

And the lute player in the chamber began playing, and the king sipped on

his wine, and Nadiel, sitting by the fireplace, enjoyed the sombre mood,

happy to have found her current quest resolved enough to her liking.

 

* * * * *

 

The official conference auditorium for the council of olde world dominions

was large. 70,000 seats had been carefully arranged, with a throng of

servants running to and thro, looking to their dignitaries needs and

concerns. Representatives from a vast assembly in inner world discs, going

as far out as the 8 millionth disc, were gathered, chatting amongst

themselves, in high anticipation of what was about to happen. Gemmadel and

Jandy, seated at the rear, a woman's place it was deemed, watched on.

 

'Tis exciting, is it not, my lady. The buzz in this room is something I've

not encountered my whole life,' said Gemmadel.

 

'The stuff of royalty and nobility,' replied Jandy. 'But the buzz is not

the reason for this gathering. It is the content of the discussion. It will

be illuminating, I should think, what will be said. A future may be before

us Gemmadel were things change somewhat.'

 

'Or things will remain the same,' said Gemmadel. 'For I fear I have no

clear feeling of the mood of things.'

 

'They are gathered, none the less,' replied Jandy. 'So some interest must

be agreed upon in the hearts of the olde world as to Aclyos proposition.'

 

'It would appear so,' agreed Gemmadel.

 

A servant appeared by them and asked whether they would like a refreshment

of any sort. Gemmadel queried what was available, and a hot chocolate was

requested, while Jandy declined. They sat and watched the room as the final

seats started filling up and there was movement at the central platform.

Shortly the master of ceremonies took the stage and the audience quietened.

He looked out at everyone, turning to face them all and giving a bow, and

then opened a scroll and cleared his voice.

 

'Dignitaries and Eminences of the Olde World. Majesties, Powers, Thrones

and Dominions. Exalted guests, and those of more humble station. Greetings

in the name of King Aclyos. We are gathered here today to mark an idea. A

powerful idea. A unique idea. A world changing idea. It is not new. In

fact, such institution is a thing ancient. From the very beginnings of

governance and business – from the very beginning of society – people have

formed partnership. Partnership, community, institution, society. We are

people who gather our strengths, find common purpose, and find unity, and

build things Build things to make a better world, were all can prosper, and

all can find a peace of mind, linked by an understanding that there are

conventions in our life which are agreed upon. Not always universally, but

in differing degrees of strength and commonality. Through these

conventions, and the insitutions which agree and promote them, civilizaton

is built, and thrives and progress is made. And a better, more secure

world, more understood world, is brought forth. It is old, this idea. As

old as the hills. And so far we have come down the pathway of eternity that

it behooves us to travel further still and see what can be, and, more

importantly, what should be. In the new world, this idea, this old idea, is

well established. Such institions as the United Nations, the World Bank,

the World Health Organisation, and various other bodies, have an

appreciation by society which is recognized by nearly all citizens. And in

the New World, with its marvellous technologies, and daring progressive

views, they have a world which has common good at its heart, and common

prosperity as its goal. Of course, we all know, through our own sovereign

choices, that we are not new world people. And because the degree of

progress into modernism is something we by and large eschew, something

which we have concluded is not our way, it is perhaps taken for granted,

perhaps a bit too much, that all such fruits of the renaiisance and beyond

are bad, and unworthy of a world which keeps its ancient traditions secure,

intact and treasured. But this is not necessarily so. I do say that again

to you all gathered here today. That is not necessarily so. Progress can

and does bring ideas which can be applied to an ancient world, for while we

most definitely agree that not all old things are bad, we must certainly

profer the notion that not all new things are either. The proposed council

of Olde World Dominions is about more common legal, regulatory and economic

conventions throughout our olde world. They are the central pinnacles and

precepts of what shall be discussed and, potentially, proposed. There are

other issues to be discussed, and for some gathered here in our audience,

the fairer sex's voice, a woman's voice, is to have its say also.'

 

Gemmadel went 'Hmm,' to Jandy, who nodded softly in reply.

 

'There is much that will be said, and much, we must assume, which will be

heartily rejected at the very first utterance, for it is not our way, it is

not our world, it is not our ideals. But they must be said regardless, and

we must bring to light those things which can improve our world and,

perhaps, should. We have a value in the olde world which doesn't change,

and can not change, and will not change. But there are issues which have

always been part of our communities which perhaps should change, and which

perhaps will. I could stand here all morning and give great and grand

dialogue about the whole agenda of discussion to be presented, but I won't.

I will simply conclude by saying these are exciting times, daring times,

bold times and new times. And what shall shortly transpire must be thought

on, cogitated, pondered and considered and, if there is to be fruit from

this grand discussion, let that fruit speak its mind and, as you all would

agree, let us see what will be.' The Master of Ceremonies put down his

scroll, bowed once again to everyone, and the buzz in the audience resumed

once more.

 

'Fascinating,' said Jandy to Gemmadel.

 

'Indeed,' replied her lady in waiting.

 

* * * * *

 

'It is an option. An option to see wisdom unparallelled,' said Ezeqiel.

'Today's brilliant speech by Gwen of Locksley, truly an option to see

wisdom yet not disclosed in the knowledge banks of eternity.'

 

'Your mocking words befit your ancient bastardry,' replied Sharakalaniel.

'I think of Daniel the Cherubim, dwelling with the bad boys, and enduring a

scene he ultimately did not fit in. He – he I give credit for what he might

utter, for he is generally enough sincere and true. But my twin Ezeqiel

still forks his tongue with gossip and malcontent, even though it be

strongly veiled with noble pronunciations and etiquettes, a shield I do

say. He is plain to see to a woman who sees the truth, for he is a little

child in the chocolate shop, and want's to plunge his member inside all the

lovely tastey ones.'

 

'Ooh, that could indeed be misconstrued, twin of mine. But, nay. Tis not a

sham, unfortunately. The remnant of my wise relaxed period of indulgence is

a charm which keeps the tittles of laughter in the court pleasant and

becoming the presence of its noble lord. It is for jest, Sharakalaniel. You

judge me harshly.'

 

'Bollocks,' she replied. 'Anyway, shut the gob of the noble lord, and let

us listen. She has taken the stand.'

 

Ezeqiel put his hand on Sharakalaniel's knee and squeezed it and looked up

at the platform. Gwen was ready to speak.

 

'Dear people,' began Robin's daughter. 'And that is what we all are. Male,

female, black, white, short, tall, fat, thin, heterosexual, sodomite. Ye,

even Sodomite, they are still human in the end, despite their grievious

life choice. And in the image of a Creator we are fashioned, and with a

mind akin to the creators, far diminished, but of similar characteristics,

we have our life, being, meaning and purpose. And whatever we are, whatever

shape or form we take in our human fashioning, there are those

characteristics which always remain true of people. We think. We have power

in our brains inside our skulls which think, and cogitate and create

thought and logic. It is often bemoaned the simplicity of the washerwoman,

but old wives tales are often the thing listened to most of all. I say to

you, gentlemen in particular, a woman can think. And more than that – a

woman DOES think. We do have brains also. We do have thoughts also. And we

feel and have heart, and have ideology of honour and valour and courage and

faith much akin to what a man is capable of many a day. We are people in

the image of God likewise, and we also can be proud bastions of the powers

of authority and the powers of wisdom. We, too, are mad in the image of

God. It is probably true, in the end, after all my boyish prides have

humbled themsleves, that a woman is a tad different to a man, and not just

in terms of the sex organ. But our looks are fairer more often than not,

and if you did shave a man and woman's head, and looked at their face, with

no hint of hair design or makeup to betray anything, usually you will

notice the one which is male and the one which is female. That design in

which we do know is called our DNA does make distinguishment between us,

both in sex organ, and in appearance, and it would seem a softer and fairer

appearance for female so, in that wisdom of truth I want to declare that,

despite much thinking in psyche thinkers of latter new world times, that

the psychology of a man and the psychology of a woman, while quite commonly

similar on many an occasion, probably do indeed have differences. And as

you can tell from our frames they be more tender and our appearance usually

more fair, it would seem we are indeed the gentler being, and the man the

stronger, and this is a truth of nature, which I do humbly acknowledge. In

this sense a woman probably does have her place in society. She it not as

outgoing and robust as a man in most usual respects. In sporting contest

the male, usually, forgive, but will kick the maiden's ass.'

 

There was a chuckle of laughter through the auditorium on those words.

 

'And in intellecutal prowes sometimes it honestly seems to me that when the

man puts his mind to the task of academic brilliance he is capable of truly

amazing feats. There are many a genius woman, but the genius of the male of

the species is undoutable. But, in the end, we grow and we learn and, as

time passes, we civilize. And because the Almighty from generation to

generation and aeon to aeon doth sanctify us, it truly seems to me that men

like to occasionally here a woman's wisdom and a woman's word, as they have

grown comfortable with us, an old familiar lifemate, who has charted her

destiny alongside her love since the very beginning of things. A woman can

have a place in the world. She can speak and have a say and rise to become,

to varying degrees, of import. And this, I feel, should not be discouraged,

for a man's natural talent should always be able to secure him the

authority he needs in life. There should not be rules of law on

differentiation in our roles terribly much, but some I will admit as

necessity. Rather an allowance of nature to take its course, for in the

proper freedom of the mind and heart of nature at work in the olde world, a

truer and more representative place for woman, from what merit deems

natural and fair, shall arise – not one which has to combat male pride,

masculinism, chauvanism and other bastions of male pride they can still so

easily use in their game of war with those of the opposite sex. Let us

fight our battles, I ask of you all. Let us stand and rise on the abilities

in us, for how can you really fear what we are naturally capable of. In the

end it is an issue of justice, and if we can gain such and such a place in

the world through our own efforts, indeed, so we should. So we should. A

woman' voice should be heard. Still, now and forever, it should be heard.

Thank you.'

 

She stood down, and the audience clapped warmly.

 

'She spoke well,' said Ezeqiel.

 

'She spoke true,' replied Sharaklaniel.

 

* * * * *

 

Daniel the Cherubim took his seat, and watched. Nadiel stood up after the

last speaker finished, and sipped on a glass of water and looked at the

audience. She began.

 

'Gwen of Locksley spoke well. Hopefully can emulate a similar response. I

want to say this, first of all, a woman is not a man's servant. Don't think

that Jarmaine. A woman is not a man's servant. A woman, a wife, is a

helpmeet. But she has a life of her own, and a family of her own, and an

experience of interaction with the existence of stuff in her world which is

her experience and her interaction and something men have no right to pry

into and sovereigntise themselves upon. Come on fellas. What is your

problem? Can't you handle a tough gal who knows when to tell you to back

off and enough is enough? No, I really think you can't. You like your boys

club, and you don't want it taken from you. Eve has complied for so long,

and she likely always will, but Adam doesn't push too hard in the end. He

leaves her be to run the household and to make her own sovereign choices

and live her own sovereign life. We are free beings as well, and for you

guys to use brute strength or legal excuse to dominate us is gutless. I'll

say it again, it's gutless. If a man wants to rule a woman, he must be her

lord for a reason. Of grace, dignity, proper authority, respect and deep

concern for his wife. Responsible to see to her needs, give her a place in

his home and life, and give her things to do and people to talk to. Women

do not mind being taken care of and submitting to their husband. As Gwen

might relate we do have a natural tendency of submission to men at times.

We need you guys just as much as you need us and we often don't object to a

strong and even forceful husband. We do love you guys. But give us our

space, as I will say you generally do, and the shrew sometimes likes to be

the shrew, and have her passion, and have her force of fierce words, and

her heated antagonism. We're not all lady janes. Many of us are daughter

Jezebel and mother Lilith. We can and do have dark sides very often, and we

can and do fight back. And we can unite, you know. The suffragettes

demonstrate we can fight back and get much of our way if we have to. It's a

battle of the sexes, and never forget we have bodies which can pack a punch

with some training and effort also. In this olde world, in the end, by

virtue of the choices of the men to desire this lifestyle it is reasonable

and fair for them to expect to have appropriate womenfolk who share their

values and are willing to do a woman's work and be a natural woman and a

natural wife. It's not unreasonable and, in the end, I'm not complaining

either. You guys do a reasonably good job at keeping law and order, and I

don't think a woman has to try and take control in the olde world, because

that is how the men like it, and that's not necessarily wrong at all.

People are allowed, in their sovereign choices, to have the lifestyle that

suits them. I speak, then, asking you all this. Just don't push it on us

all, the fairer sex, too the nth degree where we are nothing but chattle.

Please keep faith with our humanity and our mind which can think, and our

ability to make decisions. Give us a place in this world were a woman can

speak her mind if she must and if she needs. I'm happy to learn my place

here. It doesn't bother me, really, in the end. I like the olde world and,

despite myself, I like its values. They are traditional and I will be the

first to admit they endure and do work. Simply keep in mind you all need

your mothers – they gave birth to you, and your woman is your vessel for

affection, so love her so and value her for what she can offer you, both in

body and mind. And I think I've said enough.'

 

Nadiel sat down, and there was silence around the auditorium. But, after a

moment, a few claps, and then they started clapping warmly enough, and

began chatting on what she had said. It seemed – tolerable – her

presentation. Daniel felt she had spoken as Nadiel would, but was not too

outspoken. Jarmaine would likely observe, but leave her be. She'd said

things within reason.

 

* * * * *

 

An assembly of personages, Sharakalaniel sipped on her glass of wine, and

stood there, in the palatial grounds of Castle Aclyos, enjoying the

aftermath of the council. On the castle grounds a peculiar dragon, which

Penidwael assured them was quite harmless, was frolicking with a Wyvvern,

dancing around, looking splendid as all dragons do. Gwen of Locksley was

chatting with father Noah, and Daniel the Cherubim with his twin Nadiel

were also in that group, dressed in their typical finery. Queen Gemmadel

and Jandy were chatting with Penidwael in their group, while her twin

Ezeqiel was gawking at the dragon, yelling at it to spit out fire. Very

amusing Ezeqiel. Suddenly there was a commotion in Noah's group.

 

'It's a crossbow bolt,' said Daniel, picking it up.

 

'It just missed my head,' said Gwen.

 

'There,' said Noah. 'In the trees just there. And he is armed. Quickly

people, these trolleys.'

 

The groups hid behind the trolleys which had been used in the conference,

but the assassin came out of his hiding place, climbed up to the porch and

pushed the trolley aside, glaring at Gwen, his crossbow pointed at her.

 

'Would be cold blooded murder. You'd hang,' said Noah.

 

The assassin glared at Gwen, pointing his weapon at her a while, and then

raised it up.

 

'She is a nuisance and better off dead,' said the assassin. 'Her message is

madness of modernism, and it will not be tolerated.'

 

'That might be true,' said Daniel. 'But I think you have other things to

worry about rather than Gwen of Locksley.'

 

The assassin gave Daniel a puzzled look, but suddenlynoticed heavy

breathing on his neck. He turned, and looked, and a gigantic ghastly face

of a dragon was staring at him. It breathed a bolt of fire at the assassin,

which singed his hair, and the assassin yelped, and ran off.

 

'Serves the bastard right,' said Gwen, getting to her feet, and the party

chuckled a little at the dragon who was bowing a dragon sort of bow.

 

'I think I could use you also, dear dragon, to keep the cronies of Jarmaine

off of my back,' said Nadiel.

 

'It would be an honour, lady Nadiel,' replied the dragon.

 

'Troublesome times,' said Noah. 'Passions have been ignited, and I am not

sure the olde world is happy with the proceedings which have gone on at

this conference. Feathers have been ruffled, so keep your wits about you

Gwen.'

 

'Indeed,' said Gwen, looking in the direction the assassin had fled to.

'Troublesome times indeed.'

 

* * * * *

 

Nadiel had triumphed – sort of. She had gloried for a while, and then

drifted off again on her journies. She came into a tavern, and ordered a

meal. And then she had noticed the familiar face of the assassin of

Jarmaine at the window, staring at her. She almost wanted to go up to him

and tell him to fuck off. But she couldn't say that. She'd have a dagger at

her throat before she could blink. So she had eaten her meal, and ducked

out the back entrance, and continued on her way. But he was trailing from a

distance – he was always trailing from a distance. She wandered, here and

there, and came to a seaport in northern Aclyos, and she sailed to the

neighbouring modern world country, and took flight back to the 886th disc

of the realm. He was there, at the back of the space ship, in the economy

class cabins. Her nemesis. She arrived home, and wandered off, back again

into the olde world, and he was always just behind her, watching her,

waiting for an opportunity to make his claim. And then one evening she

wandered into an old town, and there was the sea, and she came down to the

port and counted her coins, and the captain looked familiar. She was cook

again, and Theodore Atkins was drunk, on a pile of sacks, and she kicked

his feet and called him an idiot, and he bellowed the Asian Bitch is back,

and Nadiel sighed, and got on with the evening meal. And life went on.

 

* * * * *

 

Gwen pulled down the curtain of the window in the carriage. 'It's a long

way back to the spaceport,' said Gwen. 'A long series of carriage rides,

and the endless steam train journey again, to get to the border.'

 

'We'll get there,' replied Noah. 'One month is not too long a wait.'

 

'I guess not,' repied Gwen. 'And you are most excellent company dear

grandfather.'

 

'Good to know,' said Noah, putting his hand on Gwen's knee and giving it a

squeeze. 'Now wake me if we get another assailant.'

 

Gwen laughed, and nodded, and Noah laid back his head, and closed his eyes,

beginning to snooze. Gwen sat there in the darkened carriage, thinking. Her

speech was still on her mind, and the chats she'd had for the days

following. It had been a moderate impact, and nobody said she'd spoken

anything particulalry untoward. But very few had congratulated with any

great enthusiasm either. A lukewarm reaction she mostly considered, but her

words had been observed according to one regent. Time would tell, she felt,

if it had any more impact than that. Time would tell she thought, as she

likewise put her head back, closed her eyes, and relaxed after a tense and

exciting few months.

 

* * * * *

 

'Dragon. You must consider me a fool. Why are we still in Aclyos at this

blasted lake?' asked Penidwael the Cherubim of her dragonkind buddy.

 

'I've fallen in love,' said the dragon. 'My dear Wyvvern has entranced me.

I sense seed coming, and I shall stay a while. You shall of course remain a

year or two, to ensure my fair home has no complications, and then we shall

return home. Just a while, for it could be a bloodline of pride. I'll see

her comforted in the duration.'

 

'Tis not a problem. This village is of gentlefolk who suit my tastest in

things amuch. I shall give you your requested time. But no robbing

chocolate factories. And no scaring innocent fisherman. You are quite

daunting, you know.'

 

'I shall be cautious, as I told you prior,' said the Dragon. 'Nay, tis a

time for responsibility, for I shall soon be a parent again, and what a

proud day it shall be. The Realms most glorioius beast a father again. A

great day for us all.'

 

'You should exercise some humility,' said Penidwael smiling.

 

'I am humble on all occasions when I am not proud, and that is all

occasions I think which matter,' said the dragon.

 

'Crooked tongue. I see it has returned,' said Penidwael.

 

'It has been on holiday also,' said the Dragon. 'But no matter. I will see

you soon enough, but time for a dip, and I shall feast on fish today.'

 

Penidwael waved to the dragon as he took off, and watched him flit over the

lake, before sighing, and returning to the inn, and her patience of a year

or so, for the dragon to conclude his most pride-filled desires.

 

* * * * *

 

Daniel was home. And Nadiel? He'd received a letter. She was on the same

ship she'd been on in recent times, and had relayed some of her crude

encounters with a certain cook by the name of Theodore Atkins, a perpetual

drunkard. He laughed a little at her witty comments, and she had closed

that she would journey, now, quite a while, and see what life could

continue to offer her in her adventures. Good luck to her, he thought. But

now, life returning to his royal duties, after quite a bit of an escapade

in Aclyos, were a council of olde world dominions had discussed various

things, as well as whether there would be an official organisation for the

unifying of them all. And, after all the great huff and puff there had been

no great consensus and no great conclusion. All that had really transpired

by most was that the matter would be kept in mind. But what could you

expect? Things worked often incredibly slowly in the olde world. It was the

general pace of things. They were looked at, considered, and revisited many

a time before often the first declarations on their soundness were uttered.

After all, they had all eternity to make up their mind in many a sense, so

why rush things? He did not think this philosophy that unwise in the end

anyway, and review was a thing all sensible rulers should keep in mind. It

was how things improved and, for want of a better word, progress was made.

Still, it could be interesting times ahead, to see if Aclyos grand vision

captured any imaginations. Would the council come to be? Would there be

greater unity and agreement? And, for dear Nadiel's sake, would women have

something of a more included role? It would be interesting to see what

would be, so he would watch, stay informed, and let be what would be. But,

for now, a return to his royal duties, and quiet drinks in the evening,

reading and rereading Nadiel's letter, and working out an appropriate

letter to write in reply. And, all things being equal, on with life, and

the general activity of life in the realm of eternity for the angels and

children of God.

 

The End

 

 

*Wormdrogan*

 

Wormdrogan was the 500th male cherubim of the Realm of Eternity.  He

collected playing cards.  God wouldn’t play him at poker.  God liked

winning at poker.  Wormdrogan kicked ass at Poker.  God avoided Wormdrogan.

 

Yeh, he’s still giving me the cut and run,’ said Wormdrogan to Wormdog.  

He won’t give a guy a break.  I’ve been chasing his butt for a follow up

game aeons now, and there is always some excuse.  Oh, I’ve got to see a man

about a dog, he says.  Oh, my automobile needs new tyres he says.  Oh, I’m

about to end the world due to the wrath of professor Zelzazaon he says.  

Yada yada yada.  Always some excuse.’

 

Yeh, tell me about it,’ replied Wormdog.  ‘Still, whatcha gonna do, huh?’

 

Let’s play cards,’ replied Wormdrogan.

 

Marckonyel, seeing them getting ready to play, came over and sat down, and

Garanel soon followed suit.  They played poker, and the stakes were high.  

Genuine casino chips which could be redeemed at a Casino were being used.  

And big ones.  Million credit chips as the base amount, the big ones being

100 Mega.  It was a poker game they got to ever million years, a big night,

and it was time for some fool to go home lucky.  A lot at stake.

 

Of course,’ said Wormdog.  ‘He’s not gutless, as you know.  If you sledge

him a bit, call him a bit of a wuss, sort of make this known to the Spirit

what you think of the Theophany’s attitude, he’ll show up damn quick.  He’s

got a rep for not backing down on legitimate challenges from people who’ve

earned it.  You’ve been around forever bro, pretty high on the Cherubim

list, and he’ll take on the challenge.  Believe me.’

 

Is that right?’ asked Wormdrogan.

 

Pretty much,’ replied Wormdog.  ‘He confides a lot of shit with me, and

I’ve been around him long enough to know.  If he respects you enough he’ll

match the challenge.  It’s his way.’

 

Shit huh,’ replied Wormdrogan, looking at his cards.

 

The night ended with Marckonyel doing the best, and they all drank beer and

watched ‘Girls Gone Wild’ till the wee hours.  The following week

Wormdrogan gave the issue quite a bit of thought, then he spoke out one

evening to God.

 

You know, you probably know what’s been on my mind.  But, officially, tell

him that cutting and running is a bit wussy.  I know he’s sensible enough

not to lose a fortune.  Conservative with his cash and takes precautions.  

But he’s a man, ain’t he.’

 

There was silence.

 

A few weeks later the Theophany wandered in through Wormdrogan’s back door.

 

Ok, fella.  Next time with the lads, a million years from now, I won’t be

making excuses.  You can count me in thereafter.  I’ll accept your

challenge, son.  You’ve earned enough of a right to issue it.’

 

And so Wormdrogan had a chuckle that evening, shared the news with his

twin, and quite strongly looked forward to a chance to take on the old man

at the game he knew and loved best.

 

The End

 

 

*Keltarium*

 

Gandra.  I’ll give you a Gandra Mega for that,’ said Keltarium, 42nd of

the male cherubim of Eternity.

 

42 million credits?’ queried the bookseller.  A Gandra was the ancient

angelic number for 42.

 

Why, I would be giving away a 71st printing of Treasure Island at that

price.  Nay, up your offer.  I shan’t settle for anything less than a

Danielra Mega.’  A Danielra was the ancient angelic number for 45.

 

Too expensive.  I’ve seen the price charts,’ replied Keltarium.  ‘The

standard sellers price is a Gandra Mega.  It hasn’t shifted in over a

million years now.  True, soon enough a price rise is expected, but I doubt

I wish to negotiate against reason.  I’ll have to wait a while before I

earn a return on the item.’

 

Doth thou intend an investment only?  Surely it’s a book to, forgive the

pun, treasure?’ replied the bookseller.

 

Keltarium examined the work.  ‘I have a signed copy from Mr Stevenson.  An

innocent paperback of much latter vintage, but it is dear to me.  This will

be a treasure to enjoy a while, but it is for resale ultimately and

increase in my fortunes.  I’m not sure I desire such a long wait upon its

profit to my industry.’

 

The bookseller considered that point.  ‘Nay, I’m afraid I must insist on

the price.  I bought it for more than a Gandra not long ago.  And, If you

expect……..’ he trailed off.  ‘Just a second,’ he said, and referred to his

notebook on his table.  ‘Actually, forgive me.  It was 39 Mega it cost me.  

Yes, ok.  A Gandra will suffice.’

 

Good,’ smiled Keltarium.  ‘I’ll have my bank contact you within a year or

so.  The money will be transferred via reliable security measures.  They

deal mostly in gold coinage, but often silver as well.   I Hope your

financial institution can handle that.’

 

Should not be a problem.  I am with Wolfstone’s.  They are well

established.’

 

Here is my address,’ said Keltarium, handing him a slip of paper with his

address on it.  ‘The book may be forwarded by courier to that address upon

payment.  Please enclose a receipt at that time as well.’

 

Very well.  I shall put it aside with this as a promisory note,’ said the

bookseller.  The two shook hands, and the deal was done.

 

Keltarium left the store, and climbed up into his carriage just outside the

store front.  He pulled on the reigns, and the horses took off. The trip

back to his tavern was not long, and he would return his rented carriage

after a few more weeks once he had enjoyed Rochingfirth.  Stuck in

north-west Aclyos, it was a dainty city of barely a million souls, but he

must need travel to this store, for the book was well known in bookseller

catalogues as residing here, and it seemed good time for the investment to

be made.  Happy with his purchase, he urged the horses on, and soon

approached the tavern.  The bartender smiled at him as he came in, and he

went upstairs, came into his room, and sat down on the bed.  He looked at

his feet for a while, noticing the muck from the dirty road, but ignored it

after a moment, and picked up the bible by his bedside, and settled in for

a reading of latter Exodus.  The afternoon passed, and he felt the Spirit

briefly look in on him.  Soon he would be back home, far down south, and

enjoying his mansion and regular life in the olde world of Aclyos.  His

twin had been insisting for a while he visit, and he felt time was soon

approaching to consider that, but he had his routines and his comings and

goings, and was content to leave her be just that little bit longer, and

enjoy his life.  And, soon enough, a new book to add to the top shelf of

his library, which he would look at and adulate and, thinking it over,

decide just when it was time to sell and reap a decent and profitable

financial reward for his efforts.

 

The End

 

 

*The Association of American Supreme States Helping Out Lovers Everywhere

Superlatively*

 

Saruviel.  You are hereby invited to join the Association of American

Supreme States Helping Out Lovers Everywhere Superlatively,’ said Michael

the Seraphim.

 

Oh, I am honoured,’ replied Saruviel.

 

The Association appreciates your kind.  You would be perfect for them.’

 

I look forward to the next meeting,’ smiled Saruviel.

 

 

 

The next day.

 

Saruviel.’

 

Yes, Krystabel.’

 

You have joined the American Supreme States Helping Out Lovers Everywhere

Superlatively.’

 

Indeed I have,’replied Saruviel.

 

Have you checked their acronym name,’ said Krystabel.

 

A S S H O L E S,’ said Saruviel, a letter at a time.  ‘Yep.  Why?  What’s

wrong with that?’

 

Say that as a word,’ said Krystabel.

 

Oh.  Ok,’ said Saruviel.  ‘Well, looking at it, I guess its Ass…………..’ he

trailed off.  ‘He’s an asshole,’ said Saruviel.  ‘That Michael is a fucking

asshole.’

 

And he’s fucked you right up yours,’ said Krystabel.

 

The look on Saruviel’s face summed it all up.

 

The End

 

 

*Zionistya 6*

 

They were at a secret chamber in the heart of Zionistya.

 

'The dark days are behind us, chosen ones,' said Michael, dressed in a robe

of black. 'And I have put the fear of sarcasm into Saruviel the proud.

Right up his behind. Our days are coming when we shall return to the Realm.

For we have conquered Zionistya, and Eternya is not a battleground, for it

will be too easy. We shall progress in our might to the Realm of Eternity

and outwit the truly dimwitted Valandriel, and come right up Daniel's arse.

Our victory is assured.'

 

'Do they have punch at this gathering?' asked Ambriel, dressed in black, to

a fellow 'Dark One' by his side.

 

'Do not risk the ire of the dark lord in asking for punch,' replied

Gabriel. 'His wrath is well known.'

 

'You should be quiet, Ambriel,' suggested Sariel, likewise dressed in black

of the 'Dark One's'

 

'Who speaks?' asked Michael. 'What Dark One dares challenge the might of

the Dark Lord?'

 

'Is there any punch?' asked Ambriel out loud. There was a hush in the room

as they watched Ambriel surely to face the wrath of the Dark Lord Michael.

 

'Actually, down the back, next to the kegs of beer I think,' replied

Michael.

 

'Oh, thanks,' said Ambriel, wandering off to get some punch.

 

'As I was saying,' continued Michael the Dark Lord. 'The dark days are

behind us chosen ones.'

 

 

Later on, Ambriel still being the only sober member of the dark ones at the

gathering, he was watching Michael and Sariel wrestling. The other dark

ones were inebriated, and urging each of the combatants on. 'I have to

drive this frikking monkey home,' sighed Ambriel regarding the pissed

Michael. 'Still, watcha gonna do huh?'

 

 

And so the gathering of the dark ones continued apace, and Ambriel, relying

on the punch, just sighed as the various dark ones staggered around all

evening, before collapsing one by one, leaving a frustrated cleaning lady

looking at him saying 'What am I going to do with all these idiots?'

 

The End

 

 

*Sunshine and Rainbows 2*

 

'There's the sunshine,' said Daniel to Meludiel.

 

'The realm doesn't have a sun,' yawned Meludiel, rising. 'And why did we

have to sleep in sleeping bags right at the edge of Danielphon.'

 

'These are our keeps camping grounds,' replied Daniel.

 

'It's a metre to the fence,' said Meludiel. 'Sure, we can squeeze in and

sleep, but it's not much of a camping ground.'

 

'People can fit. Don't complain,' said Daniel. 'Now, while it is true, the

realm of eternity has no sun, its still approximately sunshine. It's light,

and the same sort of stuff. And, remember, we get rainbows as well,

regardless of stars being present or not.'

 

'He manages that somehow I suppose,' replied Meludiel, still yawning.

'Gosh, I didn't even feel the cold, despite it being winter.' Meludiel had

a thick shirt on, with a skivvy underneath, and pants on. 'I'm starting to

feel the cold now, though,' she said. 'Cold morning mist.'

 

'A great time to be alive. When we really feel it and we have the energy to

face the day. Winter can be really great like that. So cold that you sort

of really do feel alive. Anyway, grab your bag, and we'll go into the

ground level and I'll get breakfast ready.'

 

Meludiel smiled and followed her bestie inside. Daniel soon got the bacon

and eggs going in Danielphon's ground floor kitchen, and they were eating

breakfast at the table just shortly after that.

 

'How's Jerkob?' asked Daniel.

 

'Jacob is just fine,' replied Meludiel. 'We are happily ensconced.'

 

'Lucky bastard,' said Daniel. 'Still, I can't complain really. Jessica is

fiercely loyal, and I like her heaps. Starting to love her actually. She

was just sort of a wife who I didn't necessarily think would always be

around when we first hooked up. But she's got Messiah Ministries in her

blood, and won't ever let me go. Suits me, as I need a woman who's devoted.'

 

'Well I'm devoted to you,' said Meludiel, and leaned forward and kissed him

on the cheek. 'Just not in the marital sense, so don't get any funny ideas.'

 

'I won't. Probably starting to finally grow up a bit. It's taken a while.'

 

'Forever,' replied Meludiel.

 

'As I said, it's taken a while, but I'm slowly starting to see the light.

Ah, maturity. When you can tell the younger ones 'I walked a frikking mile

in barefeet to school. You don't know how good you've got it.'

 

Meludiel smiled.

 

'And you can wear cardigans, and fart in armchairs, and people don't

actualy mind.'

 

Meludiel smiled again.

 

'And if a bloke pinches a girl's bottom, they just laugh it off as a

gesture from silly old fool,' said Daniel.

 

'Don't push it,' replied Meludiel.

 

'Aw, you take all the fun out of life Rebecca. Eat your damn eggs,' he said.

 

And the morning passed.

 

* * * * *

 

'Time to make the HMS Unsinkable II, Melly Smelly Beccy Weccy,' said

Daniel. 'Come on girl. Up off that couch. I've a little blow up kids pool

in our meagre front yard, and I expect it to be truly unsinkable this time.

We're going upstairs to the craft room.'

 

'Lead on,' said Meludiel, rising to her feet. They came to the elevator,

rose up a number of floors, and walked down a corridor to Danielphon's

official craft room. Sharakondra was in there, on her mobile, but there was

sheets of plastic being cut out in various shapes in front of her.

 

'She must have a project or something,' said Daniel.

 

'The paper?' queried Meludiel.

 

'Heaps of it,' said Daniel, pointing to the open cupboards. 'Lots of

colours in the A4 and Foolscap range as well. I make it a point of getting

foolscap out of older tradition. How about a lovely caramel colour?'

 

'If you insist,' replied Meludiel, who hunted around and found a sheet of

A4 caramel paper. She took it to the desks and Daniel handed her a cup full

of crayons.

 

'Ok,' said Daniel. 'It is important to pay attention to detail. You should

have learned from the last dismal, truly dismal, effort, that if you do not

cover the whole paper with crayon, little holes in your masterful work can

let the water seep in and drown your precious creation. I will admit you

have history to justify you, as the first Titanic indeed sank. But the

second is going strong, so you do not have any excuses.'

 

'I'll keep that in mind,' said Meludiel.

 

Daniel sat down and watched Meludiel start crayoning. After a while he got

up and put on the stereo, a Teak, which daniel had ordered from the

company, commissioning the model, requesting that they 'Get off their arses

and don't make such tacky systems.' This one was the standard design, but

it was a definitely improved product, and Teak had improved a lot in recent

times, taking their work a lot more seriously because of Daniel's

admonishing of the company. The radio came on, and it was a mixed

mainstream/Noahide/Christian channel, which Rebeeca enjoyed listening to

with Daniel, and she looked at her bestie, and looked at her work. She was

quite in a good mood.

 

'Here,' said Sharakondra, who had left the room a few moments ago, but

 

culture and way of thinking in the olde world.

 

'How was your trip, Dragon?' asked Penidwael.

 

'It's good to be out of that monstrosity,' replied the dragon. 'I fear my

hay is full of more dung than all the chamber pots you could find in all

Aclyos.'

 

'I did notice,' replied Penidwael. 'Did you enjoy your chocolate and movie

entertainment.'

 

'Gollum was a delight,' replied the dragon.

 

'Why does it not surprise me you'd say as such,' said Penidwael.

 

'Do I flap my wings hence, or have you a sufficient chariot for the next

part of our journey?' asked the dragon.

 

'That mountain range,' said Penidwael, pointing to a mountain range to the

north of the airport. 'Follow it till it ends in a large lake. Go to the

northern side of the lake, and you'll find the King's Highway. Aclyos'

throne city is at the end of that highway.'

 

'I shall enjoy my trip then,' replied the dragon. 'But take my time. And

that lake sounds ideal for a day or two of frolicking. I wonder, these

mountains? Are they known for my kind?'

 

'50 leagues northward of here the border of Aclyos begins. This was the

closest I could get us, as there are not air or spaceports in the Kingdom.

But I have heard you may indeed find olde world dragons here and there in

Aclyos. Good luck.'

 

The dragon smiled its dragon smile at Penidwael, stretched its wings, and

took to the air. Penidwael watched it fly north, and smiled, then continued

on to get her luggage and resume the rest of her journey.

 

* * * * *

 

Daniel examined the scroll. '500 gold pieces?' he queried the messenger.

'Why so many?'

 

'It would guarantee your presence. The money is redeemable at the end of

the conference. King Aclyos does not want committed attendees who do not

show due to other unforseen circumstances. The money is also far less than

he wanted, but was convinced of a far more reasonable sum by various

parties.'

 

'Queen Jandy no doubt,' commented Daniel, looking again at the invitation.

'3 years notice? Plans are made very slowly in the olde world. Much time is

needed for consideration. Why so sudden?'

 

'It is an inquisition, nothing more. Official just an inquisition. Into the

proposal of a council of Olde World Dominions in practical reality. A

discussion on the idea by various notaries of the olde world. He has

invited over 3000 to the conference, and it is to be set in a grande

chamber indeed, one of the largest halls of parley I have ever seen. You

might almost consider it a conference room of the very modern world, if

such a thing was not unbecoming to our way of life.'

 

'Indeed,' replied Daniel. 'I'll not pay. But I'll attend. He has my word on

that. Take that message to Aclyos.'

 

'As you wish, noble King of Chaldeans.' The messenger bowed, and left, and

Daniel returned to his desk. It was a bit of a hide asking for 500 gold

pieces to attend a mere inquiry, but it would seem Aclyos was quite serious

in the new plans he had made. They were known well enough, his desire for

this olde world united dominion. It had been posited he desired good trade

and a degree of universalization of some legal precepts. A more common

understanding on things. Realm law often wanted to interfere, the degrees

of eternity's political system, but the olde world paid all of that scant

regard. Old policies from the heyday of the Realm of Eternity prevailed,

but the olde world had long ago gotten over playing ball with the

machinations of the political powers of the realm. They'd do it the olde

way, and not bother to sign treaties and alliances and trade agreements and

all the modern things which the realm was full of. They were the olde

world, they did not need all its modern luxuries and all its modern

conveniences. But in the thinking and logic of the olde world, as

Aclyophenes reasoned, there was a decorum and approach for a certain degree

of common unity, and it was this subject he wished broached. Daniel would

attend, more for personal interest than anything, and see what would come

of the matter. But, for now, his regular Kingly duties, and the next move

in his chess game against a noble in the court, a good friend, who had made

a good move with a bishop, which Daniel had been puzzling on for days.

 

* * * * *

 

'Robin Hood – is a legend,' said Noah.

 

'And so is a giant boat full of beasts two by two,' replied Gwen of

Locksley.

 

'Touche, fair maiden,' replied the Ark Builder. 'But in this life eternal

legends become real. And what was myth transforms into historical fact.'

 

'So, tell me. Was it two pairs of everything, or seven pairs of

everything?' queried Gwen.

 

'The scripture elucidates the answer,' said Noah. 'Two of unclean, seven

pairs of clean.'

 

'And that is historical fact, then, is it?' asked Gwen.

 

'The scripture is the record and the record is the scripture. You'll get no

more detail from me than what is recorded. Less you have a deep abiding

interest in the covenant faith, that is.'

 

'Mmm,' replied Gwen. 'I'm probably too much of a Roman Catholic for such a

reality,' said Gwen. 'At least in tradition. Jesus is the love of my life,

and I'll not swap him for a rainbow warrior.'

 

'Nor should you, fair maiden,' said Noah. He looked at the map in front of

him. 'The 41st disc of the realm of Eternity. Done in the olde style. The

cartographers of this epic must be proud of themselves. I notice the

skyscrapers representing the major modern cities. Cute touch.'

 

Gwen looked down at the map. 'The differentiation of modern and olde, and,

if you notice, here on the right, the lovely space ship of future world, is

something they've done quite deliberately.'

 

'Why?' asked Noah.

 

'This map is popular,' said Gwen. 'And they olde world wants to remind its

citizenship in no uncertain terms what the olde world is, and what it is

not.'

 

'I see,' said Noah.

 

Gwen took out a cross from her pocket, and handed it to Noah. He examined

it. 'An emblem of your faith?'

 

'It's not my faith,' she replied. 'It's my tradition. I have faith in God,

not in Jesus of Nazareth. He's fallible humanity, and I am not naieve. But

our tradition is strong, and I shan't betray it.'

 

'Do you have classical artwork on the arks?' asked Noah.

 

Gwen looked at him. 'I have a piece with my family, at their estate. In a

box. A collection of various pieces of artwork, cut out from a more modern

magazine.'

 

'I see,' said Noah. 'Would you partake of an artist friend of mine and his

ongoing work of ark picture painting? He has a central work he modulates

regularly, with variation of colours. He's an endless supply to work

through, well, nearly. And he is currently doing purple with burgundy

styles. You could put it up at home?'

 

'A kind gesture,' replied Gwen. 'Now, father. What do you wish to ask me?'

 

'Aclyos sent me a letter. Not long ago. He queried how the children of

heaven handle the subject of femininity and the apparent rights of the

fairer sex since the beginning of things. And, not so much to share that

knowledge with me, but yourself, who he intends to represent as a

spokesperson in his upcoming council.'

 

'Yes, I know,' said Gwen. 'Well then. What would you say?'

 

'That life creates its own rules, regardless of the times and what people

think should be,' said Noah. 'And that nobody follows tradition in the end,

but that they do as they damn well please. And when they get very old they

are set in their ways, and gravitate to where they belong instead of

reshaping the world in their image. The olde world has shaped itself by a

populace who prefer the olde world's way of things. You nearly need know

from the children of heaven that we love our women, and they speak their

mind freely when pressed to do as such.'

 

'I see,' said Gwen.

 

'So speak your own thoughts, and don't hold back, for Jarmaine won't

criticize your right to express yourself at a council formed for that

particular point. He may indeed disagree, but your expression will be

allowed.'

 

'Then I will have to think long and carefully upon my words,' said Gwen.

 

Noah nodded and looked at the map. 'I'll have that painter sent to you when

you return to Londinnum.'

 

'As you wish, father,' replied Gwen of Locksley.

 

* * * * *

 

Jarmaine was a Muslim. His breed was Quran alone as the principle of

guidance. He also accepted the Rainbow Torah as his offical religion. Islam

was the creation of Mohammed, and not Allah, let his name be praised. But

after a billion prayers to Allah in the name of Islam that ceased to be

much of an issue anyway. The community was established, and Jarmaine,

having been born into that community, was a part of it, and that was just

the way it was. And then he died and came to the New Terra new arrivals

department, and they shuffled him off to New Terra 47. And then he applied

for a visa to the Realm of eternity, and settled in the 886th disc of the

realm, and having found work, his visa was renewd many times, as his

employers always commented on his reliability to immigration. And he

applied for a permanent visa and, due to his outstanding record, it was

approved. He was dark skinned, from Africa, and his friends were muslims of

similar nature in various locales in the 886th disc, and Rophiel the

Seraphim, Mohammed himself, was as popular as any of the iconoclasts which

dominated the realm of eternity. And in the name of Rophiel he gathered

friend muslims, and founded the council of Jarmaine. And it grew. In time

they made allegiances with Christians and Jews and Noahide groups, and in

Noahidism he found his official faith. And in the olde world which

gradually took shape in the 886th disc, he settled, for it was what he had

prayed for somewhat, and what he was given, and with his council they

formed a lore of work which was the morality codes of much of the thinking

of many. They were the traditions and ways of life in the olde world which

Jarmaine insisted upon, and was strong in his views, and they came to

dominate at times. But it was not the only agenda, for each religion kept

its own individuality, alongside the standard Seraphim and Cherubim Torah

teaching and communities of the Realm, but it was strong, and an interest

group, and it represented one of the powers of the Olde World. And while

Jarmaine had not foreseen his destiny, nor much planned it out to be as

such, that is how things came out. Within the Council of Jarmaine, though,

as would find in any religion of intent, where the more fundamental

members, those who took its teaching very seriously, and to heart, and were

of a view that the 'Lukewarm' needed to be corrected and admonished and

guided more clearly to 'See the Light'. And in that spirit was 'Dominic of

Laville' to see his purpose in life. For the 'Lavilleans' were a secret

order within the Council of Jarmaine, and they would ensure its message and

work were represented and upheld in society and, when things which reared

their ugly heads, like the intent of King Aclyos and his recent desire for

a council of olde world dominions, it was an issue of interest and news,

but when within that intent there was a voice to be given to women to speak

their mind, like a man should and like only a man should, then the

Lavilleans would take keener interest. And as the role of women was set in

stone, as Eve, being the help meet, must submit to her husband, measures

were deemed necessary to be taken. And the Lavilleans were not unfamiliar

with the more serious measures, as any history student of the wars of Jihad

and Crusade could dutifully inform you.

 

* * * * *

 

'A dragon is as a dragon does,' said the dragon. 'And I am in a frisky

mood, my dear. How about it?'

 

'I'm a Wyvvern, you imbecile,' said the black and golden wyvvern. 'We are

not compatible.'

 

'Oh, we are compatible my dear. Dragvern's are common. And I've met many a

feisty Wyvvagon that I know all too well our coupling is divinely ordained.'

 

'Keep on dreaming,' said the wyvvern, proudly. 'Besides. You have a

reputation. My father told me all about the pride of Kalros Hill. Thinks

himself the ruler of our kind.'

 

'But I am my dear. The noblest and fiercest of the lot,' said the dragon,

and breathed out a bolt of fire in demonstration of his proud words.

 

'Will take more than that to bed me, dragon of pride. And a Dragvern is

hardly fitting as the firstborn of noble Rhaemliel Genta Bloodfire,'

replied the wyvvern.

 

'A virgin as well. Tis my lucky day,' said the dragon, and he came forward

and rubbed his head against the wyvverns neck.

 

'Smooth are you,' said the wyvvern, drawing away. 'But you'll not conquer

me.'

 

The dragon continued rubbing her neck, and with a claw scratched her back.

'Does that feel good?' He asked.

 

She turned and looked at him, and batted her eyelashes. The dragon grinned,

and came behind, and mounted her. A few hefty heaves and pushes, and, his

seed burning into his mistress, he withdrew, and lay down, promptly falling

asleep. She lay down next to him, bewailed her lost virginity for a moment,

but let it pass. It was time enough anyway.

 

* * * * *

 

Nadiel sat on the swing, looking at the ship down the hill in the harbour.

There were other ships in the harbour at their current port of call, and

while she had softly inquired whether any might perchance be heading

northwards, she had only inquired. One, indeed, was destined for a similar

part of the disc where she might take herself, but she had dismissed this

as just curiousity. Besides, who would give that damned Theodore Atkins the

kick he needed. Nay, she'd not take up the diplomat on his offer. It was

hard enough keeping her tracker at bay, the blasted assassin of Jarmaine.

She hardly needed advertising herself to the whole olde world with what

surely would be perceived of as the feminist rantings of Nadiel the

Cherubim. But, as she sat there, swinging in the moonlight, her pride rose

up, and she said to herself. 'No. No, I should not let that blasted

Jarmaine dictate all my affairs and comings and goings. To hell with him. I

shall speak my mind. Damned if I won't.' And thus, having determined in her

heart on her next course of action, she jumped of the swing, came down the

hill to the inn, and found the captain she had inquired of earlier that

day. And offering her services as cook or some other servile position for

her passage, he was agreeable enough that he could find good use for the

maiden, and she returned to her prior ship, gathered her meagre belongings,

and found Theodore in the kitchen, drunk and asleep on the sacks, and

kicked him one last time in the foot. Then one last time more for good

measure, before looking at him, and reaching down, touching his chin,

saying 'See you around Theo'. And then she was gone, off to the other ship,

and soon enough headed northwards to make inquiries of good King Alfred of

Norwich, and what role she could determinedly represent for the voice of

the female in the olde world.

 

* * * * *

 

'Well, father. Isn't this a fine and dandy thing. The highways of Aclyos,

on to the throne city of the King,' said Gwen of Locksley to her ancient

grand father of past generations, dear old Noah.

 

'I've been down this road before,' said Noah. 'When it was young. The pines

look hauntingly familiar. And the spirit is the same, as you would imagine.

That is something of this creation of Elohim. It changes everyday, but it

stays the same everyday.'

 

'My life speaks the same plot,' said Gwen. 'Working in the guild, the same

four walls of the room I both work and sleep in. Oh, its a wonderful room,

and large enough, and Perlock is fine company. And he always has a new

joke, a new jest, a new charade. But it's the consistency, rather than the

modulation, that, I don't know. That you notice, I suppose. Or maybe what

you rely on. To find the courage to endure this life and persist.'

 

'They say God is faithful. I say that myself,' said Noah. 'And the rising

of the sun and the setting of the sun keeps us on our steady course.'

 

The carriage went silent for a while, and Noah started snoozing. Suddenly,

though, a crossbow bolt burst through the back of the carriage, just

missing Gwen's head, and Noah awoke startled.

 

'We're under attack!' yelled Gwen, reaching for her bow and quiver of

arrows, which she religiously took with her on her travels.

 

'I'm sure you can handle it. Wake when it's over,' said Noah, putting his

head back to snooze once more.

 

Gwen looked at him incredulously, and then, with her weapons, climbed out

onto the top of the carriage. Behind them, on horseback, an armed man, with

a crossbow. He was currently reloading, and Gwen yelled at the driver to

stop the carriage. The carriage slowed, and stopped, and Gwen held up her

bow, arrow drawn, pointing it at her assailant. 'Mark my words. You'll be

dead before you can fire that thing!' yelled Gwen.

 

The man put down his crossbow, and drew up next to the carriage. He began

to speak in a hoarse voice. 'A woman must know her place. The actions of

Gwen of Locksley are unfitting for the olde world. We know well of the

upcoming council, and the plans made to include yourself as a speaker. But

I warn you, make sure you speak submissive words at the council. The woman

must know her place. If you don't, these crossbolts will fire more true

next time.'

 

'I don't fear you,' replied Gwen. 'My father is Robin of Locksley. He

commands respect throughout all the realm.'

 

'And it is your father who will weep on your grave. Mark my words,' said

the man, glared at her a moment, and turned his horse, taking off back up

the road just travelled down. Gwen watched him go, arrow still aiming at

him and, frustrated, released it, but it hit a tree in the forest nearby.

She returned to the carriage, ordered the driver to resume travel, and as

the carriage started again, she looked at Noah and nudged him.

 

'You handled it?' he asked.

 

'With no help from the likes of you,' she replied, glaring at him hotly.

 

'Who could not respect the daughter of Robin Hood,' said Noah, and again

put his head back, going off to sleep.

 

Gwen stared at him and said 'Unbelievable.' Then she sighed, put her bow

and arrow back on the floor, but not too far out of reach, and looked out

the window at the passing trees, her mind thinking over the events that had

just transpired.

 

* * * * *

 

'You know, at least a wyvvern has some decorum in the end. They are humbled

by their slightly smaller size compared to the dragons fierce, but in that

humility they act accordingly, and BEHAVE THEMSELVS. You, Dragon. You have

no conscience.'

 

'Bah,' replied the dragon. 'I was merely doing as a dragon does.'

 

'Were have I heard that before,' replied Penidwael. 'I mean, it's really

fascinating. A dragon comes to Aclyos to have a lovely holiday, carefully

arranged by a senior cherubim of good name and reputation.'

 

The dragon raised his eyebrow on that point.

 

'And what does he do? Promises a light dip in a lake, and goes about

upsetting the fisherman with his playful antics, which are more akin to the

wrath of a kraken, and flits about everywhere, spewing out flames of fire,

and scaring the living hell out of the community. And, if that's not

enough, he raids the Aclyonian Chocolatiers Factory, and spends half an

afternoon devouring their supplies of chocolate and caramel and fudge.

Stuff relied upon for future profiteering. You haven't exactly kept a low

profile, you know. I hear King Aclyos is strongly considering letting out a

troop of knights to teach you a lesson you most obviously deserve. You have

behaved beneath your station, noble beast.'

 

The dragon lowered his head, embarrased, and snorted out a tiny bolt of

fire. 'I haven't had a decent romp in ages,' he said softly. 'Penidwael, I

am a wild creature, and sometimes we need to let loose and have a bit of a

wild time. It's only our way.'

 

'You will curb all future exuberance, or I won't plead with the King again

for mercy. I'll lead the charge myself.'

 

'Yes Penidwael,' said the dragon, softly. 'I'll be more cautious in the

future.'

 

'You had better,' replied the Cherubim. The dragon had been rebuked, and

Penidwael was satisfied with her lecture. She could hardly afford to have a

reputation for bringing a crazed beast into Aclyos, to disturb all and

sundry. So she'd had her words, but came over, stroked the dragon on its

neck, which it liked, and started singing softly to it, a tune it liked and

she'd sung before, and the dragon, she swore, purred softly.

 

'Crazy beast,' she said to it. It snorted a small bolt of flame once more.

 

* * * * *

 

'The British dominion of Norwich is neither progressive nor conservative.

It's not that simple,' said King Alfred. 'We are truth, but a living truth.

A vibrant truth, of a reed in the river, which bends with the wind. But as

we all know the wind blows were it will from day to day. And sometimes a

northerly has become a constant feature, and it is predictable and a

settled thing. But a southerly takes over, and the reed, naturally, bends

to accommodate. Dear Lady Nadiel. I am happy to sponsor you and give you

place in Norwich's time at the upcoming council for the proposal of a

united olde world dominionship. I know well you'll speak of a woman's voice

in the olde world, and who can not say that at times a woman should not

express herself. If we take too much for granted as menfolk resentment will

set in, and a woman scorned is a woman to be feared.'

 

'Thank you your majesty,' replied Nadiel. 'I shall speak with words which

do you no dishonour.'

 

'I caution you, twin of King Daniel, that the council of Jarmaine has much

power and influence. There are those that will be present who would see you

rather hang from the gallows than speak your mind. They are stones, set in

their way, unwilling to flex with the changing seasons. Be sensible and

exercise caution and prudence – remember that – caution and prudence. That

pretty little head should remain attached to those shoulders. Dare the

wrath of Jarmaine too much and I fear it may not always be as such.'

 

'I shall speak my mind. But I shall heed thine words also, dear King. I am

not silly. I have not gotten this far down the pathway of eternity without

having learned a thing or two, you know.'

 

'Let us hope that remains the case,' replied the King. 'Now, no more

discussion. We will listen to the lute player and enjoy a spot of wine.'

 

And the lute player in the chamber began playing, and the king sipped on

his wine, and Nadiel, sitting by the fireplace, enjoyed the sombre mood,

happy to have found her current quest resolved enough to her liking.

 

* * * * *

 

The official conference auditorium for the council of olde world dominions

was large. 70,000 seats had been carefully arranged, with a throng of

servants running to and thro, looking to their dignitaries needs and

concerns. Representatives from a vast assembly in inner world discs, going

as far out as the 8 millionth disc, were gathered, chatting amongst

themselves, in high anticipation of what was about to happen. Gemmadel and

Jandy, seated at the rear, a woman's place it was deemed, watched on.

 

'Tis exciting, is it not, my lady. The buzz in this room is something I've

not encountered my whole life,' said Gemmadel.

 

'The stuff of royalty and nobility,' replied Jandy. 'But the buzz is not

the reason for this gathering. It is the content of the discussion. It will

be illuminating, I should think, what will be said. A future may be before

us Gemmadel were things change somewhat.'

 

'Or things will remain the same,' said Gemmadel. 'For I fear I have no

clear feeling of the mood of things.'

 

'They are gathered, none the less,' replied Jandy. 'So some interest must

be agreed upon in the hearts of the olde world as to Aclyos proposition.'

 

'It would appear so,' agreed Gemmadel.

 

A servant appeared by them and asked whether they would like a refreshment

of any sort. Gemmadel queried what was available, and a hot chocolate was

requested, while Jandy declined. They sat and watched the room as the final

seats started filling up and there was movement at the central platform.

Shortly the master of ceremonies took the stage and the audience quietened.

He looked out at everyone, turning to face them all and giving a bow, and

then opened a scroll and cleared his voice.

 

'Dignitaries and Eminences of the Olde World. Majesties, Powers, Thrones

and Dominions. Exalted guests, and those of more humble station. Greetings

in the name of King Aclyos. We are gathered here today to mark an idea. A

powerful idea. A unique idea. A world changing idea. It is not new. In

fact, such institution is a thing ancient. From the very beginnings of

governance and business – from the very beginning of society – people have

formed partnership. Partnership, community, institution, society. We are

people who gather our strengths, find common purpose, and find unity, and

build things Build things to make a better world, were all can prosper, and

all can find a peace of mind, linked by an understanding that there are

conventions in our life which are agreed upon. Not always universally, but

in differing degrees of strength and commonality. Through these

conventions, and the insitutions which agree and promote them, civilizaton

is built, and thrives and progress is made. And a better, more secure

world, more understood world, is brought forth. It is old, this idea. As

old as the hills. And so far we have come down the pathway of eternity that

it behooves us to travel further still and see what can be, and, more

importantly, what should be. In the new world, this idea, this old idea, is

well established. Such institions as the United Nations, the World Bank,

the World Health Organisation, and various other bodies, have an

appreciation by society which is recognized by nearly all citizens. And in

the New World, with its marvellous technologies, and daring progressive

views, they have a world which has common good at its heart, and common

prosperity as its goal. Of course, we all know, through our own sovereign

choices, that we are not new world people. And because the degree of

progress into modernism is something we by and large eschew, something

which we have concluded is not our way, it is perhaps taken for granted,

perhaps a bit too much, that all such fruits of the renaiisance and beyond

are bad, and unworthy of a world which keeps its ancient traditions secure,

intact and treasured. But this is not necessarily so. I do say that again

to you all gathered here today. That is not necessarily so. Progress can

and does bring ideas which can be applied to an ancient world, for while we

most definitely agree that not all old things are bad, we must certainly

profer the notion that not all new things are either. The proposed council

of Olde World Dominions is about more common legal, regulatory and economic

conventions throughout our olde world. They are the central pinnacles and

precepts of what shall be discussed and, potentially, proposed. There are

other issues to be discussed, and for some gathered here in our audience,

the fairer sex's voice, a woman's voice, is to have its say also.'

 

Gemmadel went 'Hmm,' to Jandy, who nodded softly in reply.

 

'There is much that will be said, and much, we must assume, which will be

heartily rejected at the very first utterance, for it is not our way, it is

not our world, it is not our ideals. But they must be said regardless, and

we must bring to light those things which can improve our world and,

perhaps, should. We have a value in the olde world which doesn't change,

and can not change, and will not change. But there are issues which have

always been part of our communities which perhaps should change, and which

perhaps will. I could stand here all morning and give great and grand

dialogue about the whole agenda of discussion to be presented, but I won't.

I will simply conclude by saying these are exciting times, daring times,

bold times and new times. And what shall shortly transpire must be thought

on, cogitated, pondered and considered and, if there is to be fruit from

this grand discussion, let that fruit speak its mind and, as you all would

agree, let us see what will be.' The Master of Ceremonies put down his

scroll, bowed once again to everyone, and the buzz in the audience resumed

once more.

 

'Fascinating,' said Jandy to Gemmadel.

 

'Indeed,' replied her lady in waiting.

 

* * * * *

 

'It is an option. An option to see wisdom unparallelled,' said Ezeqiel.

'Today's brilliant speech by Gwen of Locksley, truly an option to see

wisdom yet not disclosed in the knowledge banks of eternity.'

 

'Your mocking words befit your ancient bastardry,' replied Sharakalaniel.

'I think of Daniel the Cherubim, dwelling with the bad boys, and enduring a

scene he ultimately did not fit in. He – he I give credit for what he might

utter, for he is generally enough sincere and true. But my twin Ezeqiel

still forks his tongue with gossip and malcontent, even though it be

strongly veiled with noble pronunciations and etiquettes, a shield I do

say. He is plain to see to a woman who sees the truth, for he is a little

child in the chocolate shop, and want's to plunge his member inside all the

lovely tastey ones.'

 

'Ooh, that could indeed be misconstrued, twin of mine. But, nay. Tis not a

sham, unfortunately. The remnant of my wise relaxed period of indulgence is

a charm which keeps the tittles of laughter in the court pleasant and

becoming the presence of its noble lord. It is for jest, Sharakalaniel. You

judge me harshly.'

 

'Bollocks,' she replied. 'Anyway, shut the gob of the noble lord, and let

us listen. She has taken the stand.'

 

Ezeqiel put his hand on Sharakalaniel's knee and squeezed it and looked up

at the platform. Gwen was ready to speak.

 

'Dear people,' began Robin's daughter. 'And that is what we all are. Male,

female, black, white, short, tall, fat, thin, heterosexual, sodomite. Ye,

even Sodomite, they are still human in the end, despite their grievious

life choice. And in the image of a Creator we are fashioned, and with a

mind akin to the creators, far diminished, but of similar characteristics,

we have our life, being, meaning and purpose. And whatever we are, whatever

shape or form we take in our human fashioning, there are those

characteristics which always remain true of people. We think. We have power

in our brains inside our skulls which think, and cogitate and create

thought and logic. It is often bemoaned the simplicity of the washerwoman,

but old wives tales are often the thing listened to most of all. I say to

you, gentlemen in particular, a woman can think. And more than that – a

woman DOES think. We do have brains also. We do have thoughts also. And we

feel and have heart, and have ideology of honour and valour and courage and

faith much akin to what a man is capable of many a day. We are people in

the image of God likewise, and we also can be proud bastions of the powers

of authority and the powers of wisdom. We, too, are mad in the image of

God. It is probably true, in the end, after all my boyish prides have

humbled themsleves, that a woman is a tad different to a man, and not just

in terms of the sex organ. But our looks are fairer more often than not,

and if you did shave a man and woman's head, and looked at their face, with

no hint of hair design or makeup to betray anything, usually you will

notice the one which is male and the one which is female. That design in

which we do know is called our DNA does make distinguishment between us,

both in sex organ, and in appearance, and it would seem a softer and fairer

appearance for female so, in that wisdom of truth I want to declare that,

despite much thinking in psyche thinkers of latter new world times, that

the psychology of a man and the psychology of a woman, while quite commonly

similar on many an occasion, probably do indeed have differences. And as

you can tell from our frames they be more tender and our appearance usually

more fair, it would seem we are indeed the gentler being, and the man the

stronger, and this is a truth of nature, which I do humbly acknowledge. In

this sense a woman probably does have her place in society. She it not as

outgoing and robust as a man in most usual respects. In sporting contest

the male, usually, forgive, but will kick the maiden's ass.'

 

There was a chuckle of laughter through the auditorium on those words.

 

'And in intellecutal prowes sometimes it honestly seems to me that when the

man puts his mind to the task of academic brilliance he is capable of truly

amazing feats. There are many a genius woman, but the genius of the male of

the species is undoutable. But, in the end, we grow and we learn and, as

time passes, we civilize. And because the Almighty from generation to

generation and aeon to aeon doth sanctify us, it truly seems to me that men

like to occasionally here a woman's wisdom and a woman's word, as they have

grown comfortable with us, an old familiar lifemate, who has charted her

destiny alongside her love since the very beginning of things. A woman can

have a place in the world. She can speak and have a say and rise to become,

to varying degrees, of import. And this, I feel, should not be discouraged,

for a man's natural talent should always be able to secure him the

authority he needs in life. There should not be rules of law on

differentiation in our roles terribly much, but some I will admit as

necessity. Rather an allowance of nature to take its course, for in the

proper freedom of the mind and heart of nature at work in the olde world, a

truer and more representative place for woman, from what merit deems

natural and fair, shall arise – not one which has to combat male pride,

masculinism, chauvanism and other bastions of male pride they can still so

easily use in their game of war with those of the opposite sex. Let us

fight our battles, I ask of you all. Let us stand and rise on the abilities

in us, for how can you really fear what we are naturally capable of. In the

end it is an issue of justice, and if we can gain such and such a place in

the world through our own efforts, indeed, so we should. So we should. A

woman' voice should be heard. Still, now and forever, it should be heard.

Thank you.'

 

She stood down, and the audience clapped warmly.

 

'She spoke well,' said Ezeqiel.

 

'She spoke true,' replied Sharaklaniel.

 

* * * * *

 

Daniel the Cherubim took his seat, and watched. Nadiel stood up after the

last speaker finished, and sipped on a glass of water and looked at the

audience. She began.

 

'Gwen of Locksley spoke well. Hopefully can emulate a similar response. I

want to say this, first of all, a woman is not a man's servant. Don't think

that Jarmaine. A woman is not a man's servant. A woman, a wife, is a

helpmeet. But she has a life of her own, and a family of her own, and an

experience of interaction with the existence of stuff in her world which is

her experience and her interaction and something men have no right to pry

into and sovereigntise themselves upon. Come on fellas. What is your

problem? Can't you handle a tough gal who knows when to tell you to back

off and enough is enough? No, I really think you can't. You like your boys

club, and you don't want it taken from you. Eve has complied for so long,

and she likely always will, but Adam doesn't push too hard in the end. He

leaves her be to run the household and to make her own sovereign choices

and live her own sovereign life. We are free beings as well, and for you

guys to use brute strength or legal excuse to dominate us is gutless. I'll

say it again, it's gutless. If a man wants to rule a woman, he must be her

lord for a reason. Of grace, dignity, proper authority, respect and deep

concern for his wife. Responsible to see to her needs, give her a place in

his home and life, and give her things to do and people to talk to. Women

do not mind being taken care of and submitting to their husband. As Gwen

might relate we do have a natural tendency of submission to men at times.

We need you guys just as much as you need us and we often don't object to a

strong and even forceful husband. We do love you guys. But give us our

space, as I will say you generally do, and the shrew sometimes likes to be

the shrew, and have her passion, and have her force of fierce words, and

her heated antagonism. We're not all lady janes. Many of us are daughter

Jezebel and mother Lilith. We can and do have dark sides very often, and we

can and do fight back. And we can unite, you know. The suffragettes

demonstrate we can fight back and get much of our way if we have to. It's a

battle of the sexes, and never forget we have bodies which can pack a punch

with some training and effort also. In this olde world, in the end, by

virtue of the choices of the men to desire this lifestyle it is reasonable

and fair for them to expect to have appropriate womenfolk who share their

values and are willing to do a woman's work and be a natural woman and a

natural wife. It's not unreasonable and, in the end, I'm not complaining

either. You guys do a reasonably good job at keeping law and order, and I

don't think a woman has to try and take control in the olde world, because

that is how the men like it, and that's not necessarily wrong at all.

People are allowed, in their sovereign choices, to have the lifestyle that

suits them. I speak, then, asking you all this. Just don't push it on us

all, the fairer sex, too the nth degree where we are nothing but chattle.

Please keep faith with our humanity and our mind which can think, and our

ability to make decisions. Give us a place in this world were a woman can

speak her mind if she must and if she needs. I'm happy to learn my place

here. It doesn't bother me, really, in the end. I like the olde world and,

despite myself, I like its values. They are traditional and I will be the

first to admit they endure and do work. Simply keep in mind you all need

your mothers – they gave birth to you, and your woman is your vessel for

affection, so love her so and value her for what she can offer you, both in

body and mind. And I think I've said enough.'

 

Nadiel sat down, and there was silence around the auditorium. But, after a

moment, a few claps, and then they started clapping warmly enough, and

began chatting on what she had said. It seemed – tolerable – her

presentation. Daniel felt she had spoken as Nadiel would, but was not too

outspoken. Jarmaine would likely observe, but leave her be. She'd said

things within reason.

 

* * * * *

 

An assembly of personages, Sharakalaniel sipped on her glass of wine, and

stood there, in the palatial grounds of Castle Aclyos, enjoying the

aftermath of the council. On the castle grounds a peculiar dragon, which

Penidwael assured them was quite harmless, was frolicking with a Wyvvern,

dancing around, looking splendid as all dragons do. Gwen of Locksley was

chatting with father Noah, and Daniel the Cherubim with his twin Nadiel

were also in that group, dressed in their typical finery. Queen Gemmadel

and Jandy were chatting with Penidwael in their group, while her twin

Ezeqiel was gawking at the dragon, yelling at it to spit out fire. Very

amusing Ezeqiel. Suddenly there was a commotion in Noah's group.

 

'It's a crossbow bolt,' said Daniel, picking it up.

 

'It just missed my head,' said Gwen.

 

'There,' said Noah. 'In the trees just there. And he is armed. Quickly

people, these trolleys.'

 

The groups hid behind the trolleys which had been used in the conference,

but the assassin came out of his hiding place, climbed up to the porch and

pushed the trolley aside, glaring at Gwen, his crossbow pointed at her.

 

'Would be cold blooded murder. You'd hang,' said Noah.

 

The assassin glared at Gwen, pointing his weapon at her a while, and then

raised it up.

 

'She is a nuisance and better off dead,' said the assassin. 'Her message is

madness of modernism, and it will not be tolerated.'

 

'That might be true,' said Daniel. 'But I think you have other things to

worry about rather than Gwen of Locksley.'

 

The assassin gave Daniel a puzzled look, but suddenlynoticed heavy

breathing on his neck. He turned, and looked, and a gigantic ghastly face

of a dragon was staring at him. It breathed a bolt of fire at the assassin,

which singed his hair, and the assassin yelped, and ran off.

 

'Serves the bastard right,' said Gwen, getting to her feet, and the party

chuckled a little at the dragon who was bowing a dragon sort of bow.

 

'I think I could use you also, dear dragon, to keep the cronies of Jarmaine

off of my back,' said Nadiel.

 

'It would be an honour, lady Nadiel,' replied the dragon.

 

'Troublesome times,' said Noah. 'Passions have been ignited, and I am not

sure the olde world is happy with the proceedings which have gone on at

this conference. Feathers have been ruffled, so keep your wits about you

Gwen.'

 

'Indeed,' said Gwen, looking in the direction the assassin had fled to.

'Troublesome times indeed.'

 

* * * * *

 

Nadiel had triumphed – sort of. She had gloried for a while, and then

drifted off again on her journies. She came into a tavern, and ordered a

meal. And then she had noticed the familiar face of the assassin of

Jarmaine at the window, staring at her. She almost wanted to go up to him

and tell him to fuck off. But she couldn't say that. She'd have a dagger at

her throat before she could blink. So she had eaten her meal, and ducked

out the back entrance, and continued on her way. But he was trailing from a

distance – he was always trailing from a distance. She wandered, here and

there, and came to a seaport in northern Aclyos, and she sailed to the

neighbouring modern world country, and took flight back to the 886th disc

of the realm. He was there, at the back of the space ship, in the economy

class cabins. Her nemesis. She arrived home, and wandered off, back again

into the olde world, and he was always just behind her, watching her,

waiting for an opportunity to make his claim. And then one evening she

wandered into an old town, and there was the sea, and she came down to the

port and counted her coins, and the captain looked familiar. She was cook

again, and Theodore Atkins was drunk, on a pile of sacks, and she kicked

his feet and called him an idiot, and he bellowed the Asian Bitch is back,

and Nadiel sighed, and got on with the evening meal. And life went on.

 

* * * * *

 

Gwen pulled down the curtain of the window in the carriage. 'It's a long

way back to the spaceport,' said Gwen. 'A long series of carriage rides,

and the endless steam train journey again, to get to the border.'

 

'We'll get there,' replied Noah. 'One month is not too long a wait.'

 

'I guess not,' repied Gwen. 'And you are most excellent company dear

grandfather.'

 

'Good to know,' said Noah, putting his hand on Gwen's knee and giving it a

squeeze. 'Now wake me if we get another assailant.'

 

Gwen laughed, and nodded, and Noah laid back his head, and closed his eyes,

beginning to snooze. Gwen sat there in the darkened carriage, thinking. Her

speech was still on her mind, and the chats she'd had for the days

following. It had been a moderate impact, and nobody said she'd spoken

anything particulalry untoward. But very few had congratulated with any

great enthusiasm either. A lukewarm reaction she mostly considered, but her

words had been observed according to one regent. Time would tell, she felt,

if it had any more impact than that. Time would tell she thought, as she

likewise put her head back, closed her eyes, and relaxed after a tense and

exciting few months.

 

* * * * *

 

'Dragon. You must consider me a fool. Why are we still in Aclyos at this

blasted lake?' asked Penidwael the Cherubim of her dragonkind buddy.

 

'I've fallen in love,' said the dragon. 'My dear Wyvvern has entranced me.

I sense seed coming, and I shall stay a while. You shall of course remain a

year or two, to ensure my fair home has no complications, and then we shall

return home. Just a while, for it could be a bloodline of pride. I'll see

her comforted in the duration.'

 

'Tis not a problem. This village is of gentlefolk who suit my tastest in

things amuch. I shall give you your requested time. But no robbing

chocolate factories. And no scaring innocent fisherman. You are quite

daunting, you know.'

 

'I shall be cautious, as I told you prior,' said the Dragon. 'Nay, tis a

time for responsibility, for I shall soon be a parent again, and what a

proud day it shall be. The Realms most glorioius beast a father again. A

great day for us all.'

 

'You should exercise some humility,' said Penidwael smiling.

 

'I am humble on all occasions when I am not proud, and that is all

occasions I think which matter,' said the dragon.

 

'Crooked tongue. I see it has returned,' said Penidwael.

 

'It has been on holiday also,' said the Dragon. 'But no matter. I will see

you soon enough, but time for a dip, and I shall feast on fish today.'

 

Penidwael waved to the dragon as he took off, and watched him flit over the

lake, before sighing, and returning to the inn, and her patience of a year

or so, for the dragon to conclude his most pride-filled desires.

 

* * * * *

 

Daniel was home. And Nadiel? He'd received a letter. She was on the same

ship she'd been on in recent times, and had relayed some of her crude

encounters with a certain cook by the name of Theodore Atkins, a perpetual

drunkard. He laughed a little at her witty comments, and she had closed

that she would journey, now, quite a while, and see what life could

continue to offer her in her adventures. Good luck to her, he thought. But

now, life returning to his royal duties, after quite a bit of an escapade

in Aclyos, were a council of olde world dominions had discussed various

things, as well as whether there would be an official organisation for the

unifying of them all. And, after all the great huff and puff there had been

no great consensus and no great conclusion. All that had really transpired

by most was that the matter would be kept in mind. But what could you

expect? Things worked often incredibly slowly in the olde world. It was the

general pace of things. They were looked at, considered, and revisited many

a time before often the first declarations on their soundness were uttered.

After all, they had all eternity to make up their mind in many a sense, so

why rush things? He did not think this philosophy that unwise in the end

anyway, and review was a thing all sensible rulers should keep in mind. It

was how things improved and, for want of a better word, progress was made.

Still, it could be interesting times ahead, to see if Aclyos grand vision

captured any imaginations. Would the council come to be? Would there be

greater unity and agreement? And, for dear Nadiel's sake, would women have

something of a more included role? It would be interesting to see what

would be, so he would watch, stay informed, and let be what would be. But,

for now, a return to his royal duties, and quiet drinks in the evening,

reading and rereading Nadiel's letter, and working out an appropriate

letter to write in reply. And, all things being equal, on with life, and

the general activity of life in the realm of eternity for the angels and

children of God.

 

The End

 

 

*Wormdrogan*

 

Wormdrogan was the 500th male cherubim of the Realm of Eternity.  He

collected playing cards.  God wouldn’t play him at poker.  God liked

winning at poker.  Wormdrogan kicked ass at Poker.  God avoided Wormdrogan.

 

Yeh, he’s still giving me the cut and run,’ said Wormdrogan to Wormdog.  

He won’t give a guy a break.  I’ve been chasing his butt for a follow up

game aeons now, and there is always some excuse.  Oh, I’ve got to see a man

about a dog, he says.  Oh, my automobile needs new tyres he says.  Oh, I’m

about to end the world due to the wrath of professor Zelzazaon he says.  

Yada yada yada.  Always some excuse.’

 

Yeh, tell me about it,’ replied Wormdog.  ‘Still, whatcha gonna do, huh?’

 

Let’s play cards,’ replied Wormdrogan.

 

Marckonyel, seeing them getting ready to play, came over and sat down, and

Garanel soon followed suit.  They played poker, and the stakes were high.  

Genuine casino chips which could be redeemed at a Casino were being used.  

And big ones.  Million credit chips as the base amount, the big ones being

100 Mega.  It was a poker game they got to ever million years, a big night,

and it was time for some fool to go home lucky.  A lot at stake.

 

Of course,’ said Wormdog.  ‘He’s not gutless, as you know.  If you sledge

him a bit, call him a bit of a wuss, sort of make this known to the Spirit

what you think of the Theophany’s attitude, he’ll show up damn quick.  He’s

got a rep for not backing down on legitimate challenges from people who’ve

earned it.  You’ve been around forever bro, pretty high on the Cherubim

list, and he’ll take on the challenge.  Believe me.’

 

Is that right?’ asked Wormdrogan.

 

Pretty much,’ replied Wormdog.  ‘He confides a lot of shit with me, and

I’ve been around him long enough to know.  If he respects you enough he’ll

match the challenge.  It’s his way.’

 

Shit huh,’ replied Wormdrogan, looking at his cards.

 

The night ended with Marckonyel doing the best, and they all drank beer and

watched ‘Girls Gone Wild’ till the wee hours.  The following week

Wormdrogan gave the issue quite a bit of thought, then he spoke out one

evening to God.

 

You know, you probably know what’s been on my mind.  But, officially, tell

him that cutting and running is a bit wussy.  I know he’s sensible enough

not to lose a fortune.  Conservative with his cash and takes precautions.  

But he’s a man, ain’t he.’

 

There was silence.

 

A few weeks later the Theophany wandered in through Wormdrogan’s back door.

 

Ok, fella.  Next time with the lads, a million years from now, I won’t be

making excuses.  You can count me in thereafter.  I’ll accept your

challenge, son.  You’ve earned enough of a right to issue it.’

 

And so Wormdrogan had a chuckle that evening, shared the news with his

twin, and quite strongly looked forward to a chance to take on the old man

at the game he knew and loved best.

 

The End

 

 

*Keltarium*

 

Gandra.  I’ll give you a Gandra Mega for that,’ said Keltarium, 42nd of

the male cherubim of Eternity.

 

42 million credits?’ queried the bookseller.  A Gandra was the ancient

angelic number for 42.

 

Why, I would be giving away a 71st printing of Treasure Island at that

price.  Nay, up your offer.  I shan’t settle for anything less than a

Danielra Mega.’  A Danielra was the ancient angelic number for 45.

 

Too expensive.  I’ve seen the price charts,’ replied Keltarium.  ‘The

standard sellers price is a Gandra Mega.  It hasn’t shifted in over a

million years now.  True, soon enough a price rise is expected, but I doubt

I wish to negotiate against reason.  I’ll have to wait a while before I

earn a return on the item.’

 

Doth thou intend an investment only?  Surely it’s a book to, forgive the

pun, treasure?’ replied the bookseller.

 

Keltarium examined the work.  ‘I have a signed copy from Mr Stevenson.  An

innocent paperback of much latter vintage, but it is dear to me.  This will

be a treasure to enjoy a while, but it is for resale ultimately and

increase in my fortunes.  I’m not sure I desire such a long wait upon its

profit to my industry.’

 

The bookseller considered that point.  ‘Nay, I’m afraid I must insist on

the price.  I bought it for more than a Gandra not long ago.  And, If you

expect……..’ he trailed off.  ‘Just a second,’ he said, and referred to his

notebook on his table.  ‘Actually, forgive me.  It was 39 Mega it cost me.  

Yes, ok.  A Gandra will suffice.’

 

Good,’ smiled Keltarium.  ‘I’ll have my bank contact you within a year or

so.  The money will be transferred via reliable security measures.  They

deal mostly in gold coinage, but often silver as well.   I Hope your

financial institution can handle that.’

 

Should not be a problem.  I am with Wolfstone’s.  They are well

established.’

 

Here is my address,’ said Keltarium, handing him a slip of paper with his

address on it.  ‘The book may be forwarded by courier to that address upon

payment.  Please enclose a receipt at that time as well.’

 

Very well.  I shall put it aside with this as a promisory note,’ said the

bookseller.  The two shook hands, and the deal was done.

 

Keltarium left the store, and climbed up into his carriage just outside the

store front.  He pulled on the reigns, and the horses took off. The trip

back to his tavern was not long, and he would return his rented carriage

after a few more weeks once he had enjoyed Rochingfirth.  Stuck in

north-west Aclyos, it was a dainty city of barely a million souls, but he

must need travel to this store, for the book was well known in bookseller

catalogues as residing here, and it seemed good time for the investment to

be made.  Happy with his purchase, he urged the horses on, and soon

approached the tavern.  The bartender smiled at him as he came in, and he

went upstairs, came into his room, and sat down on the bed.  He looked at

his feet for a while, noticing the muck from the dirty road, but ignored it

after a moment, and picked up the bible by his bedside, and settled in for

a reading of latter Exodus.  The afternoon passed, and he felt the Spirit

briefly look in on him.  Soon he would be back home, far down south, and

enjoying his mansion and regular life in the olde world of Aclyos.  His

twin had been insisting for a while he visit, and he felt time was soon

approaching to consider that, but he had his routines and his comings and

goings, and was content to leave her be just that little bit longer, and

enjoy his life.  And, soon enough, a new book to add to the top shelf of

his library, which he would look at and adulate and, thinking it over,

decide just when it was time to sell and reap a decent and profitable

financial reward for his efforts.

 

The End

 

 

*The Association of American Supreme States Helping Out Lovers Everywhere

Superlatively*

 

Saruviel.  You are hereby invited to join the Association of American

Supreme States Helping Out Lovers Everywhere Superlatively,’ said Michael

the Seraphim.

 

Oh, I am honoured,’ replied Saruviel.

 

The Association appreciates your kind.  You would be perfect for them.’

 

I look forward to the next meeting,’ smiled Saruviel.

 

 

 

The next day.

 

Saruviel.’

 

Yes, Krystabel.’

 

You have joined the American Supreme States Helping Out Lovers Everywhere

Superlatively.’

 

Indeed I have,’replied Saruviel.

 

Have you checked their acronym name,’ said Krystabel.

 

A S S H O L E S,’ said Saruviel, a letter at a time.  ‘Yep.  Why?  What’s

wrong with that?’

 

Say that as a word,’ said Krystabel.

 

Oh.  Ok,’ said Saruviel.  ‘Well, looking at it, I guess its Ass…………..’ he

trailed off.  ‘He’s an asshole,’ said Saruviel.  ‘That Michael is a fucking

asshole.’

 

And he’s fucked you right up yours,’ said Krystabel.

 

The look on Saruviel’s face summed it all up.

 

The End

 

 

Zionistya 6

They were at a secret chamber in the heart of Zionistya.

'The dark days are behind us, chosen ones,' said Michael, dressed in a robe of black. 'And I have put the fear of sarcasm into Saruviel the proud. Right up his behind. Our days are coming when we shall return to the Realm. For we have conquered Zionistya, and Eternya is not a battleground, for it will be too easy. We shall progress in our might to the Realm of Eternity and outwit the truly dimwitted Valandriel, and come right up Daniel's arse. Our victory is assured.'

'Do they have punch at this gathering?' asked Ambriel, dressed in black, to a fellow 'Dark One' by his side.

'Do not risk the ire of the dark lord in asking for punch,' replied Gabriel. 'His wrath is well known.'

'You should be quiet, Ambriel,' suggested Sariel, likewise dressed in black of the 'Dark One's'

'Who speaks?' asked Michael. 'What Dark One dares challenge the might of the Dark Lord?'

'Is there any punch?' asked Ambriel out loud. There was a hush in the room as they watched Ambriel surely to face the wrath of the Dark Lord Michael.

'Actually, down the back, next to the kegs of beer I think,' replied Michael.

'Oh, thanks,' said Ambriel, wandering off to get some punch.

'As I was saying,' continued Michael the Dark Lord. 'The dark days are behind us chosen ones.'

Later on, Ambriel still being the only sober member of the dark ones at the gathering, he was watching Michael and Sariel wrestling. The other dark ones were inebriated, and urging each of the combatants on. 'I have to drive this frikking monkey home,' sighed Ambriel regarding the pissed Michael. 'Still, watcha gonna do huh?'

And so the gathering of the dark ones continued apace, and Ambriel, relying on the punch, just sighed as the various dark ones staggered around all evening, before collapsing one by one, leaving a frustrated cleaning lady looking at him saying 'What am I going to do with all these idiots?'

The End

Sunshine and Rainbows 2

'There's the sunshine,' said Daniel to Meludiel.

'The realm doesn't have a sun,' yawned Meludiel, rising. 'And why did we have to sleep in sleeping bags right at the edge of Danielphon.'

'These are our keeps camping grounds,' replied Daniel.

'It's a metre to the fence,' said Meludiel. 'Sure, we can squeeze in and sleep, but it's not much of a camping ground.'

'People can fit. Don't complain,' said Daniel. 'Now, while it is true, the realm of eternity has no sun, its still approximately sunshine. It's light, and the same sort of stuff. And, remember, we get rainbows as well, regardless of stars being present or not.'

'He manages that somehow I suppose,' replied Meludiel, still yawning. 'Gosh, I didn't even feel the cold, despite it being winter.' Meludiel had a thick shirt on, with a skivvy underneath, and pants on. 'I'm starting to feel the cold now, though,' she said. 'Cold morning mist.'

'A great time to be alive. When we really feel it and we have the energy to face the day. Winter can be really great like that. So cold that you sort of really do feel alive. Anyway, grab your bag, and we'll go into the ground level and I'll get breakfast ready.'

Meludiel smiled and followed her bestie inside. Daniel soon got the bacon and eggs going in Danielphon's ground floor kitchen, and they were eating breakfast at the table just shortly after that.

'How's Jerkob?' asked Daniel.

'Jacob is just fine,' replied Meludiel. 'We are happily ensconced.'

'Lucky bastard,' said Daniel. 'Still, I can't complain really. Jessica is fiercely loyal, and I like her heaps. Starting to love her actually. She was just sort of a wife who I didn't necessarily think would always be around when we first hooked up. But she's got Messiah Ministries in her blood, and won't ever let me go. Suits me, as I need a woman who's devoted.'

'Well I'm devoted to you,' said Meludiel, and leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. 'Just not in the marital sense, so don't get any funny ideas.'

'I won't. Probably starting to finally grow up a bit. It's taken a while.'

'Forever,' replied Meludiel.

'As I said, it's taken a while, but I'm slowly starting to see the light. Ah, maturity. When you can tell the younger ones 'I walked a frikking mile in barefeet to school. You don't know how good you've got it.'

Meludiel smiled.

'And you can wear cardigans, and fart in armchairs, and people don't actualy mind.'

Meludiel smiled again.

'And if a bloke pinches a girl's bottom, they just laugh it off as a gesture from silly old fool,' said Daniel.

'Don't push it,' replied Meludiel.

'Aw, you take all the fun out of life Rebecca. Eat your damn eggs,' he said.

And the morning passed.

* * * * *

'Time to make the HMS Unsinkable II, Melly Smelly Beccy Weccy,' said Daniel. 'Come on girl. Up off that couch. I've a little blow up kids pool in our meagre front yard, and I expect it to be truly unsinkable this time. We're going upstairs to the craft room.'

'Lead on,' said Meludiel, rising to her feet. They came to the elevator, rose up a number of floors, and walked down a corridor to Danielphon's official craft room. Sharakondra was in there, on her mobile, but there was sheets of plastic being cut out in various shapes in front of her.

'She must have a project or something,' said Daniel.

'The paper?' queried Meludiel.

'Heaps of it,' said Daniel, pointing to the open cupboards. 'Lots of colours in the A4 and Foolscap range as well. I make it a point of getting foolscap out of older tradition. How about a lovely caramel colour?'

'If you insist,' replied Meludiel, who hunted around and found a sheet of A4 caramel paper. She took it to the desks and Daniel handed her a cup full of crayons.

'Ok,' said Daniel. 'It is important to pay attention to detail. You should have learned from the last dismal, truly dismal, effort, that if you do not cover the whole paper with crayon, little holes in your masterful work can let the water seep in and drown your precious creation. I will admit you have history to justify you, as the first Titanic indeed sank. But the second is going strong, so you do not have any excuses.'

'I'll keep that in mind,' said Meludiel.

Daniel sat down and watched Meludiel start crayoning. After a while he got up and put on the stereo, a Teak, which daniel had ordered from the company, commissioning the model, requesting that they 'Get off their arses and don't make such tacky systems.' This one was the standard design, but it was a definitely improved product, and Teak had improved a lot in recent times, taking their work a lot more seriously because of Daniel's admonishing of the company. The radio came on, and it was a mixed mainstream/Noahide/Christian channel, which Rebeeca enjoyed listening to with Daniel, and she looked at her bestie, and looked at her work. She was quite in a good mood.

'Here,' said Sharakondra, who had left the room a few moments ago, but now returned. She was still chatting on her mobile, but had two lattes in paper cups for both them.

'Thanks Shara,' said Daniel, and Meludiel smiled at her Cherubim sister, who returned to where she was sitting, still chatting away.

'Now, remember, no holes,' said Daniel.

And the afternoon passed slowly, as Meludiel was going slowly, chatting lightly with Daniel, who had a pencil, and was working on a drawing of his sister.

Later

'It's pretty good,' said Meludiel. 'I don't actualy have three sixes on my forehead, though. And I am not sure if the tattoo on my cheekbone which says 'Hail King Satan' is accurate either. 'The nose rings are an interesting touch also.'

'Shaddup,' replied Daniel. 'It's a masterpiece. I'm putting it up.' And he took the work, tacking it onto the wall. Sharakondra gave her thumbs up to the piece, still chatting away. Daniel looked at Meludiel. 'Is the HMS Unsinkable II truly unsinkable?'

'I guess we'll find out,' said Meludiel.

'Ok, let's go,' said Daniel.

* * * * *

'It's official. You suck at building boats,' said Daniel to Meludiel. 'I was watching, musing to myself. Now, the girl is not an idiot. She would have obviously heeded my rebukes. I mean, I've known Meludiel a long while. She learns from her mistakes. She's a woman of the world who knows how to get by, and has endured a hell of a long time. She's smart, sensible, and knows what she's doing. And I watch, the grand launching, and I'm ready to clap. But, lo and behold, 30 seconds into its grand voyage, it jostles a bit, and down she goes. Pathetic. Truly, truly, pathetic.'

Meludiel held up the sunken ship. 'Your crayons. They're crap.'

'A poor craftsman blames his tools. Pathetic. I should make sure next time I get it on tape. I'm almost dreading the result.'

'Humph,' replied Meludiel.

'Tragic,' said Daniel. 'Truly tragic.'

They had curried chicken that evening, and Sharakondra sat on the couch, chatting on her mobile, and Meludiel glanced at Daniel carefully, so he wouldn't notice, a few times. She'd done that deliberately. She liked his mockery. He did it well. She smiled to herself, and said to God in her private thoughts, 'He's still a card, but don't change the idiot.'

And the evening passed, all the while the flame of Zaphon still burning a constant and persistent streak of solid blue.

The End

Madai and Javan's Lesson

Cherubim Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly and Taylor Swift were at Callodyn's place in Paradision, staying up in a few levels Callodyn had sold to Daniel at an exorbitant price. Taylor was in the guest room, currently being romance by Daniel.

'I have a fable for you,' said Daniel, one evening. 'It's got a bit of modern humour in it, but it's good for a laugh. I wrote it a long time ago.'

'Shoot,' said Taylor, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace on the cold evening.

'Ok. Here goes,' said Daniel, and started reading.

Madai and Javan’s Lesson

Madai and Javan were in the vineyard with grandpa Noah.

Grandfather. Were the women before the flood attractive?’ asked Madai.

Some were quite delectable. But I only had eyes for your grandmother,’ replied Noah.

So adultery is a sin, is it?’ asked Javan. ‘And I know Madai has been looking at some of the married lasses a bit.’

I only notice them,’ replied Madai. ‘As the ladies say, you can look but you can’t touch.’

Lust can do in many a proud soul,’ said Noah. ‘There was a time when the sons of God thought it a good idea to cohabit with the daughters of men, and nothing but Nephilism came from it. Believe me, Nephilism is a big problem to deal with.’

Tell me about it,’ replied Javan. ‘The size of Madai’s ego keeps me busy rebuking him all day long. Yeh, I get the point. Go easy on the chicks.’

Very wise,’ said Noah.

A bit of pokey wokey ain’t that bad though, is it?’ asked Madai.

A bun in the oven which hasn’t been cooked by an official baker, but a freelancer. Well, that leads to all sorts of problems.’

Grandfather?’ asked Madai.

Yes, Grandson.’

What’s a freelancer?’

I’m not sure myself. The theophany was harping on about some future things casually, saying I wouldn’t understand now, but would one day. But a freelancer only commits for a season and a time. It’s the permanent employee, apparently, which hangs around. So I advise, dears sons of my loins, become a permanent employee to your fair maiden. She’d much rather keep her good name.’

Understood,’ said Madai.

Gotcha loud and clear,’ said Javan.

And another day passed.

The End

'That was funny,' said Taylor. 'But a good lesson in the end.'

'Let's hope so,' replied Daniel.

The End

Natalendriel

Natalendriel was the 4,321st female cherubim of the Realm of Eternity. She had a name – a human name – Natalie. Natalie Portman. Long ago she’d acted in Hollywood. She still got royalty payments for her work, but now she was retired, out of action, living in Danielphon district, in a quiet street. Daniel the Seraphim actually lived on the same quiet street, a few doors down, on the other side. She occasionally watched Daniel walk past, out on his fitness crusades which he got into form time to time. She envied him – but she didn’t really have the motivation for that kind of thing anymore. She, instead, sat at home, on the internet most afternoons till about 3, when she’d put on her favourite CDs, and while away the hours till about 7 when she’d order in pizza or lasagne or cannelloni or fruit salad or a vegemix. That was her basic diet. She often rolled a dice to see what she’d eat each evening, and if it came up six she would have the sixth alternative, cup a soup, which she had delivered in boxes from the local supermarket. The sixth option which came up about a sixth of the time, and as she knew statistics quiet well that didn’t surprise her, was the sensible diet option in her plans, so that usually around once a week on average she would have a day of less food consumption, which, given her lax lifestyle, kept the weight under control. The mornings were the nicotine free cigarettes from 8 till 12, where she would smoke them in the back yard, watching the water feature, and listen to the radio, usually realm news, and learn what was going on. They didn’t give much of a smell or body odour, but they tasted great, and had little effect on the health. And that was mostly her life. Of course, in the evenings, she would go out the back to the shed and choose from one of her 30,000 DVDs from her DVD library for the movie she would watch that evening, and that was life. Quiet, simple, uncomplicated. She had a boyfriend, technically, who she would see once every million years or so to take care of her urges, but mostly it was the Vibronic 7000 X which was under her bed which satisfied her carnal urges enough. And that was how life had been for a very long time. And that was how she liked it.

* * *

She didn’t expect the knock. But it came anyway.

Yes,’ said Natalendriel.

Hey sis,’ said the lady.

Uh, Sharakondra, right?’ queried the Cherubim. ‘It’s been a while.’

I’m up in the Danielphon tower now. Daniel mentioned you lived here. Wanna come up to the cafeteria and chat?’

I don’t leave the house,’ replied Natalendriel.

What’s life if you can’t live a little?’ asked Sharakondra.

I haven’t left the house grounds in 50 million years. Go away,’ said Natalendriel, and closed the door.

She went off to the living room but the knock came again. She went to answer it.

What the heck is your problem, Sharakondra?’

Let me come in then,’ said the oldest of the cherubim females.

Fine,’ repied Natalendriel.’

They went in, and Natalendriel directed her to the seat opposite her favourite.

So, what’s new?’ asked Sharakondra.

Nothing is new. And I don’t want anything new,’ replied Natalendriel. ‘I have an organised eternity, and I no longer live in fear because it is organised, and there aren’t any more stalkers or crazed fans, and I live in peace in the most professionally regulated civilization in the universe. Why do you want to upset my peace?’

Can I get a coffee?’ asked Sharakondra.

There’s some in the pantry,’ replied Natalendriel.

10 minutes later Sharakondra was drinking coffee, and had used the remote control to turn on the TV, and Natalendriel was watching a channel she did not normally watch, but wasn’t objecting.

Wuss,’ said Sharakondra.

10 minutes passed.

Slut,’ replied Natalendriel.

10 minutes passed.

I still have a life,’ said Sharakondra.

10 minutes passed.

The red light district is always busy,’ said Natelendriel.

10 minutes passed.

Can I drop by next week?’ asked Sharakondra. ‘You’re riveting conversation.’

See you then,’ replied Natalendriel.

Sharakondra looked at the program as it finished, picked up the remote control, and turned off the TV. She stood, smiled at her cherubim sister, and left. Natalendriel closed the door properly and locked it when Sharakondra had left, and returned to the living room, picked up the remote, and put it on the channel she normally watched. She looked at the empty mug. ‘Bitch could have washed it out,’ she thought to herself.

And the day passed.

The End

Uniford

'Call me Niford, or Nif. Ford if you must, but Uniford is a formal thing, mate. I'm Aussie, and I don't like the jokes, kapiche. I've been to that many universities where they say to me, 'Where's the falcon dude,' and start chuckling, and shaking their head, and it pisses me off. Got it? It pisses me off. So listen, Wormdrogan. We ain't seen eye to to much in prior aeons, but its been a long time, and I don't go by Uniford much apart from more formal occasions. And this is gambling, and a boys night in, so just call me Niford or Nif.'

'No problems Uniford,' replied Wormdrogan.

'Mother of mercy,' sighed Uniford, the 4,321st male cherubim of the Realm of Eternity, putting his hand to his head. 'Just deal the frikking cards.'

'Your twin,' said the Theophany, looking at his cards. 'How long since you seen her?'

'She minds her business, I mind mine,' replied Uniford. 'I'm ensconced in my old world disc, and I don't catch up with Natalendriel that much. Gosh, haven't seen her in yonks.'

'She'll be leaving her premises very shortly, and it will be the first time in a very long time, and she's going to be a little nervous. Drop round, ok. Stay with her a bit,' said God.

Uniford looked at God. 'Well, ok, old man. If that's what you want. Thine will be done.'

'Don't give me that, Nif,' replied God. 'It's more of a suggestion, but if you don't object look to your twin's wellbeing. Still a mandate for the community of angels.'

'Ok Theo,' replied Uniford. 'I'll follow your suggestion and look her up. Time to catch up anyway. See what she's been up to.'

'Not much,' said God.

'Right,' replied Uniford.

And the game night got under way.

Later that week Uniford rang up his twin. They chatted and he queried whether she was up for a visit. She agreed, and he paid his bill at Senersphon Keep hotel, and decided to just walk to her address. He spent a little while in the Garden, looking around, thinking thoughts of ancient youth, before coming to the street she lived on, passed by the newly constructed Danielphon Keep Tower, before arriving at his twin's door. He knocked, she opened the door after a few moments, and she let him in.

'Much the same as I remember it, Nat,' he said.

'Two visitors in a week. That's a new record,' said Natalendriel. 'Well, never matter. Ok, I've prepared the spare bedroom. Actually, I've prepared all 3 spare bedrooms, and you can have your pick. Don't get any funny ideas about a midnight rendezvous.'

'I'll keep the snake in check,' replied Uniford. 'Anyway, it's good to see you. I'll hang around a few weeks or so. We'll chat.'

'We'll chat,' replied Natalandriel.

So Uniford and Natalendriel, the 4,321st cherubims of eternity, were reunited once more, and Natalendriel, despite her overwhelming fondness for the quiet life and its pleasant routine, thought to herself over the weekend that she probably didn't really mind the company, and almost looked forward to Sharakondra's proposed return visit. Almost.

The End

Sunshine and Rainbows 3

'Uniford Prefect. I am Xaddphod Beetlebrox. My other cranium is busy. Let's compute 42 buddy.'

'Very funny Daniel,' replied Uniford, to Daniel the Seraphim's barely veiled Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy joke.

'Art thou a lover of Sunshine?' asked Daniel.

'We don't have sun in the realm of eternity,' commented Meludiel.

'But we have sunshine. And chicken noodle soup and Action Man and Tang,' replied Daniel. 'And the Beaver gets around, Mom.'

'Leave it to Daniel to come up with that archaic reference,' replied Meludiel.

'Touche,' responded Daniel.

'Listen Xaddphod. Call me Nif please. It's usually what I prefer,' said Uniford.

'God is a wuss, you know. Couldn't handle muscling up to fight old Wormdrogan in a Mega in fiercely competitive poker, so plays him now for plastic game chips. And you sit there, and join in, and don't even realize what's going down. We had the old fart, you know. He'd a copped another Metatron moment at the end of the Mega, and I'd a been there, you know. If you'd stayed informed of the chit chat Unibar you could have negotiated and demand his pride speak. But you ruined it by playing along, and not provoking Wormie to tough it out with the dude. He's a hardun to nail down old Wolfie. We don't get many opportunities bro,' said Daniel.

'Sorry,' said Uniford.

'Still smarting on that are you?' queried Meludiel.

'Marckonyel let me know all about it,' said Daniel. 'He never admits defeat the old man, and I knew the Droganmaster could have taken him. Would have gotten it on tape as well. The Barbarian King humbly admits defeat. We'd have excuses for ages.'

'Excuses for what, exactly?' asked Meludiel.

'Yes, for what?' asked Sharakondra, sitting down at the craft table in the craft room of Danielphon, next to Uniford, paper cappucino cup in hand.

'You know – living a little,' said Daniel. 'Sunshine and Rainbows don't come cheap, you know. Good and fun stuff in life has to be carefully earned from our divine Lord above, and he gradually knuckles down on us as the aeons go by. It's getting harder to have a good time. In all truth, slowly, indeed slowly, I am growing up.'

'That's just a theoretical possibility,' said Meludiel. 'It's never been actually observed.'

Daniel gave Meludiel a frown, and continued. 'As I said, slowly, slowly I am growing up. And, in time, I will eventually settle for the more mundane things which bore the young to death but entertain the banal humor of Jehovah. You know, bland Chopin concertos, dull Monet artwork, boring hemingway novels. That kind of thing.'

'Chopin is electrifying, and I am constantly struck by Monet's brilliance,' replied Meludiel.

'He's got to you already,' said Daniel.

'I do admit Hemingway is a bit boring,' said Meludiel.

'Well 1 out of 3 ain't bad, sister,' said Daniel. 'But as I was saying, Unibar. We ain't gonna be young forever. Nail him next time you get an opportunity. If it ever comes along again.'

'Will do,' replied Uniford. 'I'm just going off to the cafeteria to look in on Natalendriel. She should be finished her lunch shortly. She likes to eat quietly in private most of the time, so I left her be.'

'Seeya after lunch,' said Daniel.

'Bring her in here, then,' said Meludiel. 'We'll do some interesting crafting.'

'Will do,' replied Uniford, standing, and wandering off to find his twin.

* * * * *

'The flames of Gehenna is where that abomination belongs,' said Daniel.

'Charmed,' replied Natalendirel, looking at her artwork of a Unicorn.

'It's wonderful,' said Uniford. 'Don't be so judgmental, Daniel.'

'He gets like that,' said Meludiel.

'Tell me about it,' replied Sharakondra.

'Seriously, the farts of the Theophany are more appealing. Even after curried egg sandwiches. That unicorn is ghastly. Is it even a Unicorn? It looks more like a pony with a bad growth on its forehead.'

'That's the style,' said Natalendriel. 'It's – modern.'

'It's shit, is what it is,' said Daniel. Picasso looks decent in comparison. And he's an abomination also.'

'No taste for the finer things in life,' said Uniford.

'No taste for the leftovers of eternity, rather,' said Daniel. 'This looks like the dregs of the copyright department where they are asking 'Are you sure you want to submit this?' Jeez.'

Natalandriel chuckled on that joke.

'It's not that bad,' said Meludiel.

'I've seen some of her earlier artwork. This is her half-assed efforts. She probably hasn't been in action for ages,' said Daniel.

'No. I haven't,' replied Natalandriel, who gave Daniel a very cross look, and tore up her art. She took another piece of paper, sat there a moment, and started painting.

'Good,' said Daniel. 'I mean, chaos can be interesting at times, but you can do better than that smozzle. Try doing it again, but improving it a bit. Work on it a bit more. Modern art is fine, but there has to be something which is genuine 'Eye Candy' about the style. Something which is quirky but people still like anyway.'

Natalendriel looked at Daniel, and her frown diminished, thinking that over. 'Ok. I'll work at improving it.' She continued painting, and the others returned to their seats, awaiting on the final product of Natalendriel.

* * * * *

'I think he might have edged you,' said Meludiel, comparing Daniel's piece for the day with Natalendriel's second effort. 'But I'm not sure.'

'Probably a tie, actually,' said Sharakondra.

'Humph,' said Daniel, looking at his piece and at Natalendriel's.

'I vote for a tie, also,' said Uniford. 'Both works are equally high quality.

'Definintely an improvement,' said Daniel, about the reborn Unicorn. 'I'll settle on a tie.'

'Fine,' replied Natalandriel, with a new air of pride in her voice. She looked at her work, and at Daniel's. 'You pushed me, buster, so I bothered to respond. I will admit that the first effort, well, I wasn't really trying terribly much. Just sort of doing something.'

'That's cool, if that's what you want to do,' said Daniel. 'But you can obviously do better.'

'And she has,' finished Uniford. 'Now we shall order in pizza, and enjoy the art of the day.'

And they indeed ordered in pizza, and Natalandriel looked at Daniel from the corner of her eye and in her heart acknowledged that he had gotten the best out of her. Despite his frank honesty being challenging to deal with, it had worked, and for that she would acknowledge the eccentricities of her dear Seraphim brother.

The End

Paradision III

Major Henry Fitzgibbons was gone for a while, but after some negotiations arrived back in 15 Chambers Avenue, and visited with Calloydn and Claudia.

'I'm here to stay,' he said. 'In the end, I moved to Paradision as a choice to actually settle, and while life with Claudia was most excellent, it was not the reason for choosing to stay in the first place. So I am back at number 15, and am here to stay dear friends. I will be at the Ex-Serviceman's club every friday night, from 7 to midnight, and will in time look for a lady to permanently settle with. I am here to stay, so count on invites to dinner and war movies and the like.'

Claudia reached out and touched Henry's arm and smiled at him. 'That makes me happy Henry. I didn't want to lose you. Forgive me, but I do love you, and having you around permanently, like Ruth and Boaz next door, it is ecstacy.'

'It's good to have you Henry,' said Daniel. 'I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.'

So Henry Fitzgibbons settled back into life at 15 Chambers Avenue and Daniel, after some consideration, decided he didn't really want Henry's address to change in the end, so forewent his prayers planned to return Chambers avenue, in time, to its original one level buildings. The tower above had gradually now grown on him, and he and Claudia found spiritual peace in the cafeteria just upstairs a bit.

Life was good with Claudia, and Daniel settled down to teaching her Noahidism of the Advancing Noah Movement, as she said as long as it was a Torah based faith she could follow it. It was not too much of an issue to her. So she accepted the Noahide Covenant as a dominant thought, and life continued on.

'Daniel,' said Claudia, one afternoon, looking at a magazine. 'Do you yet have any grand plans for life?'

'Some,' replied Callodyn, no looking up from his chess magazine. 'There are still things and avenues of adventure I haven't traversed in any great detail. Still a few things here and there to get into and look at. Why do you ask?'

'Just curious. I've been thinking about making a list of a sort of living bucket list – things to actually get done in life and enjoy. No real formative ideas yet, but I want to enjoy life. I'm not saying I don't – I do – but for a while it was a bit turbulent and I never really got to do what I wanted to do terribly much. I'd like to do some things I want to do now.'

'Then work on your list dear,' said Daniel. 'And make it a passion for your destiny. I'd be very interested in looking it over if you wanted to share. Could be an idea I might consider myself.'

'No problems,' replied Claudia.

Over the next few months Claudia began thinking on the idea, but didn't make a list yet. Instead she decided to let the idea of a living bucket list stew for some time, and give the potential options plenty of time to formulate and crystallize. She wanted a good life – not a temporary thrill. So she put the notebook she had prepared for the list away into storage, and would let it grow for a while. Let her ponder what she could do with the grand opportunity of the living experience. In the meantime she kept busy enough, and they soon fell into regular friday night attendance at the Ex-Serviceman's club with Henry. In fact, that became the thing for the time being. She'd look forward to it and Henry's tales and jokes, and Daniel's wry humor. It was a good life, and she was happy, and she didn't really, in the end, want very much change. But the bucket list was on her mind from time to time, and she would get to it eventually. But for now, enjoying what she had, and thanking God it had all worked out in the end.

The End

Olde World Dominions

Aclyophenes, King of Acloys, known by the name of his Kingdom most usually, was in a fowl mood. Good King Leonard of Finland was being awkward. Most awkward.

'Listen, you fenno-scandian nitwit. If you want to push Finnish as the tongue of political dialogue in the olde world council, well, that is all well and good. You have buckleys and none of achieving this goal, so give it a rest will you. English – the King's English – is the fine and true tongue of all propositions, and the only language which largely unites the realm. Believe me, Greek would rule if I could at all persuade the common sense of my own superior tongue, but it is not the will of the people. Diplomacy proceeds in English, so sign the joint resolution.'

King Leonard glared at Aclyos, and huffed and puffed, but signed the new document committing to another discussion council in just under a century's time, and for certain initial measures of unity to be put in place. It was clear enough now – the council was to be going ahead, and while it was far from widely accepted, it was true enough to Aclyos that they had not rejected the proposition. It was more of a reserved and laid back view that if the idiot from Aclyos wants the damn arrangement let him do all the dirty work and get it done himself. And, as he pushed on with dominion after dominion they fell into line, usually, one by one, after various demands and concerns were addressed. Change was not easy, and they didn't really want anything which looked like modernistic progressiveness, so Aclyos was constantly advised to amend his core doctrines here and there to ensure they did not fall into the trap of simply going with the general flow of the realm as a whole, something they had quite obviously put behind them. That tension was an important tension also – to get the balancing act right – for Aclyos neither wanted to returne to techno-city, or the trappings of a world were the values were not always well enough or clearly enough understood. The olde world had worked itself out well enough – it did not desire to tread down pathways they had already worked out weren't in their best interests. But economic advantages, if done, as Daniel the Cherubim had stated, in the olde way of doing things, could be advantages, for they were neither barbarian savages, living in caves, disavowing the caveman which had just invented the wheel. They had knowledge of the world and invention – standard things which were perceived as part of man's natural creativity. Things which came from the early time of mankind's Terran history, up to the era just before the reanaiisance, and into the enlightenment here and there a little. Technology was not avowed just for the sake of it – but in so many people's books it was just not the way, and a convenience which mocked man's need to work, and be in harmony with the more natural flow of things. Such was the prevailing philosophy.

'Now we'll have brandy this evening after our meal, Leonard, and we'll discuss framing some of the protocol papers in Finnish in their foundation and drafting,' said Aclyos.

Leonard nodded, and the king's retired to their respective chambers, the afternoon's discussion at an end.

* * * * *

Taylor Swift was dressed in a long robe, a dress really, but a robe in a sense also. Formal, like a priestess, with a rainbow on the right and the left breast of the aquamarine garment. She had a collar of deep blue and the same deep blue ran as a strip down the arms of the dress and around the hems. She had the same deep blue in stockings, as the robe ran down to just under the knees, where you could then see the stockings of deep blue. She wore the aquamarine colour in her shoes. Her hair was put back in a pony tail, and she had no makeup on. She looked quite comely, in fact, and pleasant and proper fare for the olde world opinion of things. Cherubim Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly was seated next to her in the carried, dressed in black pants with black shoes and socks. A black shirt, and a scarlet red coat. He had an overcoat over the shirt of black and red in striped designs. His hair was long at the moment, and the beard was about an inch in length. They had both washed very carefully that morning, but applied no deoderants or anything like that. They were in a very natural state.

'King Alfred of Norwich is a quite particular personality,' said Daniel. 'He likes the very 'natural' way of things. Why he is olde world. He has always disdained things such as makeup and perfumes and the like, and insists his citizens honour this decree to a very large decree.'

'I understand,' replied Taylor, looking out the window of the carriage.

'You are not comfortable with this?' asked Daniel.

Taylor looked at Daniel. 'It's not what I'm used to. I'm not complaning, as I don't try and dominate society insisting on my own viewpoint wherever I go. People can live as they please, and when you come into their territory I believe in respecting the culture of the land. Why I'll wear a burka in Muslim lands. It's respect for the culture. It's important, and a godly thing to do.'

Daniel smiled, and looked out his window. 'He doesn't need that formal a dialogue, though. Just speak from your heart. He likes honesty. It is a virtue he recognizes.'

'Understood,' replied Taylor.

'This is important to Cherubim Daniel,' said Daniel. 'The council of Daniel's convened recently, and we have been discussing ideas of the olde world. We wish to dialogue with relevant parties and review the whole thing. An official work for the library of the council of Danel's will be constructed. It will be a source of our wisdom and insight in life. There are interesting and new enough discussions going on at this time on this issue, and we should be able to possibly even claim copyright ideas somewhat. Regardless, we will have the right to add the volume to our collection if we do sufficient personal investigation and use it strictly for the council of Daniel and private concerns relating to our work.'

'Fascinating,' replied Taylor sarcastically.

'You're in a mood,' said Daniel.

'No. Not really,' replied Taylor. She looked at him. 'I'm mostly content. I'm enjoying being difficult. It's a Swift thing.'

Daniel stared at her. 'You can be difficult if you want. I don't mind.'

She kissed him on the cheek, and returned her gaze out the window. The carriage continued on along the road.

* * * * *

Jesus ben Joseph, Jesus of Nazareth, founder of the Christian Religion, was in a tavern with Peter, his friend from Capernaum, drinking beer. They were in Aclyos, the Kingdom of Aclyos, and a dragon was out the front of the tavern, across the road, in a park, with his younger cherubim sister Penidwael.

'Penny has a way with that dragon,' said Jesus to Peter. 'She soothes his wild behaviour.'

'Penidwael has many talents,' replied Peter. 'She would be good to consider forming an official association with for the church. She's a devout Cherubim Torah adherent, part of the Cherubim Torah Community, and is famous for her consistent study each year of three or four sections of the Cherubim Torah. Not much, admittedly, for a year, but after all eternity it really shows. She's been at it forever, and her consistency of life is truly an excellent example to everyone. Her co-association with us could be very beneficial. And it would potentially give us access to the dragon, who is a repositry of some very intricate wisdom and knowledge.'

Jesus pulled up the sleeves of his cloak, and showed peter some leather bands which were on his arm.

'What are they?' asked Peter.

'Project bands. Goal bands. Target bands. They have a contract I have with myself imprinted on each band of objectives I am trying to achieve. I have a collection of a few million of them at home of objectives achieved in life. The language is aramaic. How I started them.'

'Fascinating,' replied Peter. 'Never seen them before.'

'I keep them private,' said Jesus. 'In regards to one of them I have a project in the olde world. Chatting with Cherubim Daniel about the Council of Daniel's plans to scribe an official new tome for their library. Christendom is to do the same thing. But I don't want the nobility's opinion. Why we're in a tavern. I want the everyday man's view.'

'I see,' replied Peter. 'Why we are here in the olde world then?'

'Exactly,' said Jesus, readjusting his sleeves to their regular position. 'So when the objective clarified is clearly and completely met I will be satisfied. We are here for the duration in the meantime. So drink up.' And Jesus raised his mug and sipped, Peter doing likewise.

Peter looked out the window at the dragon. 'Dragons and Angels. An ironic mixture.'

'Indeed,' replied the man from Nazareth.

* * * * *

Angela, Queen of Islam, Rophiel the Seraphim – the prophet Mohammed, and Bahaulla – the angel Bahaliel, were in Aclyos. In the throne city of Aclyos, at 'Regency Hotel'. Regency Hotel operated a chain of hotels through the olde world and the rest of the realm, varying their style as appropriate to the culture at hand.

'Paradise is not greatly concerned,' said Angela to Rophiel. 'I again fail to see the point of this visit.'

'Research on the issue,' replied Rophiel. 'Tis not wise to let us lag behind when significant shifts in policy of standardized life are at hand.'

'God's natural order is standardized life?' queried Bahaliel.

'God is a standard sort of God. Rule, regulations, procedures, laws and so on,' said Rophiel. 'He normalizes the wild world and brings civilization. Allah has always brought rule of law when he does a work in mankind. It is his way of things.'

'That I do not dispute. But surely there is more to life and the natural world than a standardized sytem. Life has a freedom of choice in it, a movement, a flux of things, which constrains itself by law, but operates as it will,' replied Bahaliel.

'All governed by the creator of the atom, neutron, proton and molecule,' said Mohammed. 'All is in the hand of God. All has always been in the will of Allah. Nothing happens against his decree.'

'I still fail to see what grand wisdom is at display,' continued Angela. 'A minor move to bring a more unified economic system. Nothing much of an issue.'

'It's progress. It's a slight advance into a more enlightenment era idea. I am sure of this,' said Mohammed. 'They are modernizing a tad, and if they do this, then Noah, who was present, may be updating, which may flow back to Adam and Eve. Structure of life and new thought may be advancing through humanity and angelicdom. Maybe that is what is going on.'

'Or just an improvement in regulation,' said Angela. 'Anyway, I am famished. Order me something I don't regularly eat.'

'Yes your majesty,' replied Rophiel.

Soon they ate in their room at the top of the hotel, and Angela enjoyed eating chicken curry, for it was an Indian cook in the Regency at the moment, and she did not feast that often on such fare.

* * * * *

'A wind of change is in the air. That much is obvious,' said Alfred of Norwich. 'But I don't think it will be as people surmise. It will be in filing cabinets made of wood, and written with quills using ink, and in some places it will still be the parchment the accounting is done with, and it will still be the same old chamber pot I do my business in. Nay, it's a bigger building here and there in public servic administration, but not much else. Just a slightly better organized society. But done in the inimitable olde world style. Nothing will change. The stone will continue to be a stone, no matter how much the reed objects.'

'It could be as you say,' said Cherubim Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly. 'But that is what I am here to learn. Whether this is a fundamental shift in world view, or, I would guess then, as you say it may well be.'

'Storm in a tea cup,' said Alfred. 'Now come dear Taylor, walk with me. We'll take a turn round the castle and look at the garden.'

As they strolled the grounds of the castle of Norwich, Alfred walked with his two guests on either side.

'I don't think, in the end, the people will go for anything much more than that, and will not desire much more than what I said either,' replied Alfred. 'They are reasonable enough ideas by Aclyos, and an official council for discussion olde world affairs is a sensible enough thing. The 20th century may have invented the worldwide debate on the issue, but our olde world catches up with ideas also – if they are sound enough and practically applicable to our culture and society. It's not exactly new, either. Old as the hills in many ways. Much ado about nothing in the end. Mark my words.'

'You have a fine gardener. Or team of gardeners,' said Taylor, looking at all the greenery.

'Some of the best in the land,' said Alfred. 'Oh, I don't fuss too much, but the queen likes the castle to be respectable and fitting our station in life. A king should look kingly after all.'

'Indeed,' replied Daniel.

They walked the garden, and the King excused himself, leaving Daniel and Taylor to wander down to a garden bench, and sit among vines and flowers.

'He's insightful,' said Taylor. 'Has a view on this current olde world dilemma which, in all honesty, I think will be the more likely result of things.'

'Never count your chickens before they're hatched,' replied Daniel. 'But you may not be far wrong.'

'What will you delight me with tonight?' asked Taylor, looking at Daniel.

'We're to dine with the king, but I may have a special treat for you later on.'

Taylor raised her eyebrow. 'It's not the frikking bunny devil suit you borrowed of one of the other Daniel's is it? I saw it in your suitcase.'

'Darn. You've spoiled the surprise,' said Daniel.

'Well, you'll have to be at your hopping best, then,' said Taylor.

'Remember, rabbits breed at a furious rate. Sure you can handle it?' asked Daniel.

'Keep on dreaming,' said Taylor, smiling, and looking the other way. But she returned her gaze to Daniel, who winked at her. 'Devil,' she said.

'Takes one to know one sweetheart,' replied Daniel.

He did dress in the bunny suit. The breeding was predictably similar. Short, sweet, but Taylor left high'n'dry. She'd hardly gotten her satisfaction she thought to herself, as Bugs Bunny lay snoozing, his ammunition spent. 'Poor little bunny,' she said, and curled up next to him, stared at the wall for a while, and closed her eyes, drifting off to dreamworld, were she wandered into a bar full of Daniel's in Bunny suits who all said to her 'What's up Doc?'

The End

Wormdrogan 2

'We're still on for the official matchup at the next event, in just under a mega, old man,' said Wormdrogan. 'So this is still casual play for plastic casino chips. No major stakes – no major cash – evening total commits of 500 credits, and nothing more.'

'Deal the cards,' said Wolfgang the Theophany.

'So, Wolfric,' said Gabriel. 'Are you working out Wormdrogan's game style. He's well known in the elite circles of poker.'

'I've got my eye on him,' replied God, his eye on Wormdrogan.

'You can take him one day,' said Bluebell Gervasi, Gloryel's daughter. 'He's only an angel.'

'Bite me Spice Junior,' said Wormdrogan.

'Make him pay for that,' replied Bluebell. 'Defend my honur heavenly father.'

'He's buckley's and less than none,' said Wormdrogan. 'I've worked him out so far. Old and crafty at the game, but makes predictable statistical decisions. No real daring or risk-taking. Just plays the odds. The odds are only basic play. Gotta live a little.'

'I'm up for the evening so far,' said God.

'You'll go down, old fart,' replied Wormdrogan.

'4 aces,' said Gabriel, laying down his cards.

'Ooh,' said Bluebell. 'Gabriel wins. Don't underestimate old faithful.'

Gabriel winked at Bluebell, and raked in the plastic chips. 'I don't actually need to see your cards do I?' queried Gabriel, a grin on his face.

God threw his cards down, as did Wormdrogan.

'Anyone for pizza and Titanic 7?' asked Bluebell. 'It's my favourite in the series. Gotta love Jack. Everyone loves Jack.'

'Rose is the better example,' said God gruffly. 'She doesn't tolerate his advances so much as the series goes on. Knows the playboy for what he is.'

'Fuddy duddy,' said Bluebell.

'Jack just wants a bit of the shacking,' said Wormdrogan.

'That's one word for it,' said God.

'I can build a shack with this money,' said Gabriel. 'Out the back of Gaberiphon. Put my dinosaur wrestling trophies in it.'

So they spent the night eating pizza, watching Jack and his attempts to yet again win fair Rose's heart, and God was in a good mood the rest of the week.

The End

Keltarium II

Keltarium examined the scroll. 'It's the last will and testament of the Archangel Michael,' said the antique dealer. 'Before he went starkers, did his twin like a beast, and offed himself. I purchased it in Zionistya for a hefty sum.'

'How much do you want?' asked Keltarium.

'Money in fair words,' replied the dealer. 'Many mouths to feed. At least a 12% return on my investment. You can get the official sale price I purchased it for online. Get back to me if you are interested.'

Keltarium examined the scroll a moment more, then nodded, and returned to looking at the bookcases of the store, as the dealer put the scroll away. He fished out a 53rd realm printing of 'Moby Dick' and bought it, and, returned to his carriage, telling the driver to take him to the railway station. It was morning, and he'd gotten up early to inspect the antique store early, so he could leave for the day right away. He made it to the station, paid the carriage driver, and took his suitcase, and purchased a ticket back to his part of the olde world. The train came, and he boarded, and as it took off he found his seat and put his suitcase in the holders above his seat. He watched the scenery pass by for a while, and took out the copy of Moby Dick from its paper bag, and looked it over. It was eternyalized, and in excellent condition. He would think over the trip to New Terra one day to meet the author and get the thing signed. Could be a hefy fee for such a thing, but would probably be worth the investment. He put the book back in the bag after a while, and sat there, watching life pass by. Well, here he was. Life as usual, collecting antiquities, doing the things that Keltarium the Cherubim did. He was content. He had a mistress in town, who would visit him, and she certainly swore her loyalty. But he would do the upper class social scene, and get on with his business, and his life, and carry on with it all. But there was a tinge of depression in his heart, a malaise, an uncertainty about things. He could not really say for sure, in the end, if he was really doing what he really wanted to be doing, or really doing what he should be doing. It had been on his mind as of late, a certain intangible thing he couldn't quite put his finger on which needed addressed. Well, he'd work it out. He looked at the carriage magazine rack, and fished out a newspaper and started reading. And there it was. On the lower part of page 7, an innocent enough looking charity about supporting orphans, and Keltarium stopped. He thought on that for a moment, and looked inside. And he suddenly realized something. He didn't really ever give a cent to charity. Oh, he was altruistically minded, naturally, but in practice never really did a thing about it. And it suddenly ocurred to him that he really never really did a thing about that issue. He knew he cared, or he knew he was supposed to, but it never had come out in any real part of his life. He looked at the picture for bit, then took out his wallet, fished out a banknote, and wandered down to third class. He looked around the citizens who were far less affluent, and handed over the large amount of money to a simple looking fellow, who had basic clothes, and didn't seem to have much going for him.

'Godspeed, sir. Consider it charity, if you will take it,' said Keltarium.

The man nodded, and took the money, and gingerly put it in his pocket. 'Uh, thanks sir,' said the man.

Keltarium nodded, and looked around the carriage at the various faces, faces of those who did not have it quite so good as himself. As he returned to his own first class carriage he picked up the paper again, and looked at the article. Then he tore it out, put it in his wallet, and determined in his heart that he would now do something about this. He would now live up to his name as an angel of God, and show some concern. And as the meal came, he did not notice, but his heart sang a little louder, and his demeanour seemed a little brighter, and his frown was a little less frownlike, and things had improved just that little bit, just that crucial little bit, in the life of Keltarium the Cherubim.

The End

The Edge of Taylor Swift

You are a pretty tolerant person, aren’t you, Tails?’ Cherubim Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly asked Taylor Swift.

Why?’ asked Taylor. ‘Have you done something wrong?’

You don’t really object to adultery, do you?’

We’re not technically married at the moment, Daniel. You are single,’ replied Taylor.

Good. Well I haven’t committed adultery then,’ said Daniel.

Who was she?’ sighed Taylor.

Jessica,’ said Daniel.

Which Jessica?’ asked Taylor.

Jessica Poo,’ replied Daniel.

Jessica Poo? JESSICA POO?!! Our pet Rabbit?’

I told her I loved her, and petted her back. I swore she smiled at me.’

Taylor gave Daniel a long look. One of those Swift long looks, which he had observed from time to time from her mother, brother and father.

You’re an idiot,’ she said.

I swore I’d always be loyal,’ said Daniel.

A moron too,’ said Taylor.

We’re dating soon. I’m feeding her some chockie drops next week.’

No greater imbecile has yet been born,’ said Taylor.

Sweet cheeks,’ said Daniel.

Yes,’ replied Taylor.

I’ve only got eyes for you.’

And Jessica Poo,’ said Taylor.

She is the only exception,’ said Daniel.

I’ll allow her as the only exception,’ replied Taylor.

Thank you Tails,’ said Daniel.

You’re welcome,’ replied Taylor.

Oh, and I fucked Katy Perry up the arse last week,’ said Daniel.

Taylor stared at Daniel, mouth agape.

Only kidding,’ said Daniel.

Daniel wasn’t in the doghouse the rest of the week. It was the rabbit house. Being told to go fuck Jessica Poo was an interesting suggestion. Daniel didn’t take it literally. Jessica Poo was just a bit too much of a different species for him. But he did give her the chockie drops, which Taylor gave him another dirty look for, with Daniel saying ‘Don’t sweat it Jessy. She’s the jealous type.’ The rabbit just ate the chocolate drops. All was well.

The End

PART TWO

THE OBLIVION TUBE

We've Gotten This Far

Well, Kemosabe. We’ve gotten this far,’ said Daniel, puffing on his cigar. ‘And I sense it in the waters, I sense it in the air.’

I sense it in the bullshit,’ replied Valandriel.

That too,’ quipped Daniel. ‘But I sense the rebirth period is climaxing.’

Ooh,’ said Valandriel. ‘Fun times in the bedroom.’

Florel would rebuke you. She’s got you on short leash these days.’

As usual,’ replied Valandriel. ‘Likes a stable twin, and a stable life. How about your own dearest?’

Ariel is settled indeed with Mike the Crike. She’s off doing her thing, and drops around for coffee every now and again to shoot the shit, and remind me of my ego problems.’

Lengthy discussions, I would imagine,’ pointed out Valandriel.

They take some time,’ admitted Daniel. ‘But there is so much to justify in that notion. When we consider the ego, it stems forth from grand and great accomplshments. And as you so rightly observed, her lengthy admonishments are duly required to settle down the truly magnificent performance of Seraphim number one.’

I thought Michael was Seraphim number one,’ replied Valandriel.

The firstborn has problem’s tying his shoelaces. Believe me, Elenniel informs me of this. She sits there, in the morning, and he harps on an on, in a bubbler like fashion, about how Zionistya is really coming along and prospering, and she observes he’s like a schoolkid in the bedroom, and such.’

He’s born again,’ replied Valandriel. ‘Sheol did him some good in the end.’

You are probably right,’ replied Daniel. ‘Still, his exuberance is that of youth, and he is not fit any longer of the glory of Realm rulership. His demotion to Zionistya is sure, certain and eternal.’

He and Gabriel and co have a legal case pending in the high courts of the realm. Their legal right to be classified as Seraphim of Eternity due to their natural creation in the realm. After that comes their right of full restoration should they succeed to that point. I’m informed of the case as they are arguing it under my legal world of jurisdiction. Not taking a risk on the regal side of things. They know you would outfox them.’

Daniel looked at Valandriel. ‘You can handle it, right?’

Their application is following all legal procedures correctly. If they win the case the High Courts will speak with your own courts. It will be required under political authority for them to be accepted. They won’t be able to claim Zaphon or official disc overseersmanships should you refuse them, but their political position will be established.’

Fuck!’ swore Daniel. ‘I’ll have to look into that shit.’

You do that. Besides, is it ultimately still an issue?’ queried Valandriel.

It’s the whole frikking issue. Covenant and legal authority,’ replied Daniel. ‘If they get a foot in the door Michael will use all his sweet talking to usurp me and regard himself as realm boss regardless. It’s taken aeons of anti-semitic bullshit to keep the bastard in his place. This is not good Kemosabe.’

Tell it to the judge,’ replied Valandriel.

I shall,’ said the concerned Daniel the Seraphim. ‘I shall indeed . But, regardless of that matter, the rebirth is culminating, and we are due the body of Process two soon enough. It should be interesting to see what destiny, I suppose, has planned.’

It will indeed,’ replied the twelfth-born of the Seraphim of Eternity.

Responsa Divinum

And so the Children of Destiny meandered on through the years, and life continued on in its merry pace. God was active and busy and doing things with his worlds, and Daniel and Valandriel, with their concerns on Michael and the rest of the Morning Stars, were kept busy enough. And life and fate wandered too and fro, and then settled down in the realm, down on a particular angel, God's dearest in many ways, old Saruviel, who was busy at work with life, love and other mysteries. And it was a time for Saruviel to get some answers. Answers from God Almighty himself. For the Lord God, the Infinite one, the One who formed heaven and earth, who spoke the worlds into being by his own powerful word, had finally considered the rebellion of Saruviel, and Saruviel's own defiance, and the theology of the seventhborn, in all its liberty and all its freedom. And he now had words to speak with Saruviel, words of admonishment, words of correction and Saruviel would be settled, and answered, and find his own pathway more truly in the realm of eternity, and more correctly in his walk of life with that of the divine God of God's upon high.

The End

Cookies

'Ok,' said the theophany of God to Metatron. 'Logos is an idiot.'

'Say it again,' said Metatron. 'I like how it sounds coming from your lips.'

'Logos is an idiot,' said God.

'And Metatron kicks arse,' said Metatron.

'Just give me the damn cookies,' said God.

'Say please,' said Metatron.

'Humph,' said God. 'Please my butt,' and grabbed the plate of cookies, but Metatron did not protest, and sat down, eating Memra's latest batch with his heavenly father.

'They look good,' said Logos, coming into the room.

'Your not getting any,' said Metatron.

'No cookies for Logos,' said God.

'I'll complain. Lodge an official form, and send it to the Theophany,' threated Logos. 'He'll read it, and you'll be in trouble God.'

'I am the Theophany,' replied God.

'It's lodged with the official overseer of Home, in that capacity and that hat,' replied Logos. 'You waffle on about hats all the time.'

'I'll send out a reply, and encourage you to get over it,' said God.

'Give me a damn cookie,' said Logos, and God, reluctantly, handed over a cookie.

They sat there eating. God looked at Logos. 'What official form?' he finally asked.

'If the bullshit works, run with it, Michael always tells me. Works for him,' replied Logos.

'I guess so,' said God, staring at the crumbs of his lost cookie on Logos plate. 'Get that form done up. I'll look at the complaint. I don't tolerate bullshit.'

'You got it boss,' replied Logos. 'So does that mean I get another cookie?'

'I'll cook some more cookies,' said Memra, coming into the room.

'Use 3 trays, and do them in slightly different colours,' said God. 'I've had an epiphany. And put them in separate cookie jars. That way nobody can steal anyone else's cookies. And I'll be watching. Lodge that up your jatz cracker, Logo language.'

'Make God's colour black. Like his heart,' said Logos.

'You'll have caramel, toffee and butterscotch bases, all three of you,' replied Memra. 'And I'll have hazelnut.'

God eyed Logos. 'Don't touch me caramel, cowboy.'

'You get a hankering for butterscotch, and there's gonna be trouble,' replied Logos, in his cowboy voice.

'Trouble in the OK Corral,' said Metatron. 'Logos Versus God. Hell to pay.'

'Just eat your damn cookies,' said God to Metatron, but his eyes were fixed on Logos. Hell to pay soon enough indeed.

The End

 

Saruviel's Rebuke

'AM I TO ANSWER TO A REBELLIOUS SERAPHIM OF A LESSER HOUSE?'

'I didn't know at the time we were a lesser house,' replied Saruviel.

'SEVENTHBORN. HARDLY NUMBER ONE.'

'Appointed adversary by commission of God Most High. With a mind created by God Most High.'

'A MIND WHICH HAS THE ABILITY TO MAKE ITS OWN CHOICES.'

'Which I completely ran with,' replied Saruviel.

'HAVING BEEN INSTRUCTED IN SERAPHIM TORAH ON MORALITY.'

'Which is as clear as mud,' replied Saruviel.

'MUD WHICH OTHERS HAD COMPLETELY OBEYED, AND SAW REBELLION FOR WHAT IT WAS.'

'Restricted world views. Not considering greater possibilities in life.'

'AND WITH THAT FREEDOM THE DEVIL DOTH REIGN.'

'The devil doth reign. I remember the title you gave me. Satan. I don't think that was my motivation. You should really have known I was also creating order. A new order.'

'THE SEVENTHBORN IS REINVENTING A PERFECTLY GOOD WHEEL. FINDING SPOKES WHICH DON'T RUN WITH THE ORIGINAL DESIGN TOO WELL.'

'Very funny. Spokes which are more flexible, and have better endurance. Spokes still in the realm.'

'BUT DISAPPEARING TO OBLIVION.'

'What does that mean?' asked Saruviel.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

'NEVER MIND.'

The End

The Oblivion Tube

So well into the second Process God was schmoozing, and having a good time, and happy. He was playing cards with Wormdrogan pretty regularly, and Rihanna was dancing with him, dancing up a storm, and he was feeling pretty cool. Then one afternoon he gets a letter from Daniel the Seraphim who mentions a science research project which has borne light, and that he is the last to be notified. Then, a few months later, the entire corpus of the evening stars, and the majority of the Cherubim of Eternity, appoint official representatives to fill their positions in the realm, mostly from their own offspring, and they disappear down to planetary section, and out they go, in a huge ship, at a speed far quicker than others were capable of, and they go. They spend literally a million years at high velocity, before they settle at a certain point in space, and the project begins. The Oblivion Tube. It's like light – a giant capsule of light. Energy, in a sense, which can be manipulated into solid matter. Right down to subatomic levels in a sense. It was made of complex stuff, but created a huge capsule in space, and the world within was created from this, large cities, forest and beach. River, stream, mountain and field. And when it was finished they moved in, and established a basic council, and surveyed 'The Eternity Plan'. The Eternity plan was the basic concept of Daniel and Valandriel, borne from their work in the DanVal agenda. They had finally been regarded as the most successful of the Seraphim, so they expanded their official partnership. And in that partnership, now inclusive of the Evening Stars, the Cherubim of Eternity fell into line, and the objectives were to be crafted out. How to live and spend the eternity before them. Sure, they had ideas. Everyone had gotten pretty far. But somethings – not something – but somethings new were needed. A whole diatribe of philosophies, projects, plans, visions and purposes. And while they had plenty of life philosophy worked out, this was still the infancy of eternity in some senses, as most admitted they still had a lot of growth to do, so the Oblivion Tube idea took shape, were they would live, love and be happy – and plan. They would plan out, in great detail, the glory they wanted from the world and how they were going to get it. And when the Oblivion Tube was created they settled in and began their plans. Their plans of Glory.

* * * * *

'This is the fifth Process,' said Penidwael the Cherubim.

'The beginning of the fifth Process,' said the Dragon.

'The fifth Process?' queried Daniel the Seraphim. 'Mmm. Interesting. Then we have about an aeon left. I think that would be sufficient research also. Most of our conclusions have been reached. The plans are settled in concrete and our research and development into life the universe and the meaning of everything is well established. A time for summation, now, it would seem. I'll speak on the council this weekend. Let them know where we are up to,' said Daniel. 'Thanks Penny.'

Penny nodded, and disappeared down the road with the Dragon.

'Aurora Splendida will display tonight,' said Penidwael, looking up at the skies.

'An elaborate show as usual,' replied the dragon. 'I still feel there are new patterns in the system. Fascinating stuff.'

'I think I've seen it all at time,' mused Penidwael. 'But then God comes along and reminds me he is a God of the Infinite, and there is a lot of that to actually get through.'

'The purpose of our studies,' said the Dragon.

'As I am reminded. Let us visit Noble Park,' and they continued along the road, before turning right into a large green paddock, which had a covered shed in the centre, with seats. The dragon sat on the grass, and nibbled a bit of the green stuff, while Penidwael put on her music player, and tapped her feet. The dragon looked at her. Angels were amusing, it often mused. They'd sit there for hours doing the same boring things, unlike dragons, whose mind was constantly at play. But a human or an angel seemed to zone out into their own little world, and their feeble brains process quite basic thinking. Mostly about food and sex and work, and not much else. They were hardly high philosophers, and little excitement came forth from them in conversation. Penidwael was much the same, but an occasional spark of light came from her, when she would have a clever insight, or a clever comment, and the dragon smiled at those times, and worked through her utterance in his thoughts for a while, considering it. He snorted a small bolt of fire at Penidwael, and she stuck up her fingers, and grinned at him.

'Very funny,' she said. The dragon chuckled in response.

The afternoon passed, and it started raining, and Penidwael still just sat there, listening to music, tapping her feet, her eyes closed, zoned out in her own world. The dragon was considering suggesting they roam further across the paddock into the hills, and spend the night in the wild, but Penidwael usually wanted comfort things like a tent and knapsack and the like to accompany her. She had no adventure. The rain became heavy after a while, and the dragon snorted at Penidwael.

'Ok,' she replied 'Fly off then. I'll see you soon enough.'

And the dragon nodded at her, and took to the skies, heading for his cave in the hills. Penidwael watched the skies, and didn't worry about the forthcoming aurora, instead standing, looking at the steadily pouring rain and felt it wasn't going to quit anytime soon, so trudged out of Noble Park, down the road, and left, back into the city. She hopped on the monorail, and smiled at a few cherubim friends. Half an hour passed, and she hopped off, climbed the steps of her apartment block, and came in to her flat, and locked the door. She looked at the kitchen sink. A total mess of dirty pots and pans. She sighed, decided she needed to get them done, and started washing up. She'd just order pizza tonight, as she was tired out after her weekend rest. Tomorrow she'd be at work again, and energy would be consumed once more, leading to sleeping most of Saturday and Sunday Morning, before finding her dragon, and going off for another adventure into the outskirts of Central City.

* * * * *

'Daniel. Why is it called the Oblivion Tube?' asked Meludiel the Seraphim.

'Oh, that's an old joke of me and Valandriel's. Just the end of the project. We'll be a million miles away or something like that when we detonate the bitch when we make our return home. The explosion should be literally oblivion itself. Meant to be a grand climax to the whole experience. The biggest explosion in the history of the universe – at least that we know of at the moment. Will have to check that when we get home, of course, as a lot of time has passed,' said Daniel. 'Also its a bit of a sarcastic way of referring to all we are doing. Oblivion, isolating ourselves. Oblivion, the havoc our potential successes that will be borne from our endeavours could have on the world. Sort of a big oblivion of pride in some ways, in a sarcastic sense. But believe me we all know what we are doing. It was just a suitable enough joke we felt to look back later on and call the adventure. Cool title as well. The Oblivion Tube. Will make a great movie one day.'

'Very funny,' replied Meludiel.

'Here's the latest data disc from our agent at Zaphon,' said Daniel, and gave Meludiel a copy of the disc. 'It will be on the O-Net in a few days. You've come up on the roster for an advanced copy. Enjoy.'

'Ooh, baby,' said Meludiel, snatching the disc from Daniel's hand. 'I'll enjoy this millennia's news. Should be great.'

'I'll see you later this evening, babe,' said Daniel. 'And I've already checked – Jacob is doing well, and still as faithful to you as ever. He mentioned in the comments on him that's he looking forward to your return soon. We've officially got one more aeon of research, and then we're going. So sit tight – you'll be back in the arms of hubby soon enough.'

Meludiel touched Daniel on the arm. 'Can't wait, Danny. I've been getting a bit of an itch for some good loving.'

Daniel looked at the ring on Meludiel's finger. 'So, has the Vibro 4000 X been helping you out?'

'You know I never answer such crudities,' replied Meludiel. 'My private life is my concern.'

'Yeh. Understood Melly. See you later.' Daniel wandered off, and Meludiel looked at the disc. It was lovely to get an advance copy, and she would spend the rest of the afternoon researching the news report from the rest of the world, and reminisce about old faces and places. A time she looked forward to every millennia.'

* * * * *

'XYZ799 Molecule,' said Valandriel.

Kellyandora nodded, and took the test tube from Valandriel's hand. 'I'm not 100% sure,' she replied. 'The green is coloured by a tad too much purple. It's something else.'

'Then run a diagnostic,' replied Valandriel.

Kellyandora, 70th female Cherubim of the Realm of Eternity, took the test tube, and put it in another machine. It ran a diagnostic on the chemicals, and the reader diplayed its molecular structure. The two angels looked at it for a while.

'These are Carbon atoms,' said Kellyandora. 'They should not be there.'

'No. They shouldn't,' said Valandriel, looking at his workbench and the chemicals in tubes on them. 'It must be the new reagent,' said Valandriel. 'A reposit of Carbon must remain. But we expected some new possibilities.' He looked again at the tube and the screen. 'Run PotApp on it,' said Valandriel. 'Let's see what we get.'

Kellyandora launched a program on the computer terminal, and PotApp, abbreviated from 'Potential Applications', a computer program created by herself and Valandriel, started analysing the new molecule and assessing the uses the chemical could have. After a few moments the screen started running down a list of various standard uses, which XYZ799 was commonly used for, with a few additional. It also had a blurb at the bottom describing the composure of the chemical, and the kinds of general uses it could be applied to. Valandriel looked at the list, and looked at the chemical on the screen. After a moment he went to a bookcase and took down a book and started reading. Then he retired to the corner of the room, flicked on a lamp and looked at Kellyandora. 'Get me a coffee would you. I'll be busy the rest of the afternoon. Thinking this new one over.'

'No problems. I'll finish for the day,' replied the angel. She wandered off to the cafeteria, soon returning with a cup of coffee, and put it on the small table next to Valandriel's couch, who murmured thanks, but didn't look up from his book.

'Seeya Valley Boy,' she said, and left. Valandriel continued reading, thinking over the new discovery. There was something he was looking for. An old note in his head on chemistry had twinked a bit, and this could be interesting. Something the new batch could possibly achieve. Something quite different.

* * * * *

Meludiel and Penidwael were playing chess.

'Do you fancy Daniel?' asked Penidwael.

'He's an old dear friend,' replied Meludiel 'But I'm faithful to my husband Jacob Fink. And he's faithful to me.'

'You read the comments on him from the News Report I guess,' said Penidwael. 'I think you've mentioned that before, I tend to forget.'

'Memory is like that in old lives,' said Meludiel. 'It comes and goes and God only knows what we've disclosed previously which is now water under the bridge.'

'Indeed,' replied Penidwael. She moved her bishop and Meludiel analyzed the move.

'Of course, it's just an aeon to our return,' said Penidwael. 'And most of the philosophy is now complete. My projects files is enormous, you know. Daniel is always at me to work on it, and refine the product for the final review and assessment. I've got an eternal duties list which never stops.'

'We all do, don't we,' sighed Meludiel. 'But we all signed up for that.'

'I don't regret that either,' said Penidwael. 'I was a bit nervous when leaving the realm when it was planned on being for so long, but life has extraordinarily remained very similar regardless. Just a very long holiday. There are core memories in my head which don't change.'

'We were hammered into place in life by God in our original setting, and that won't change,' said Meludiel. 'The Oblivion Tube is a chapter in our history, an important chapter, and I'm sure we'll never forget it, but the original setting compels our hearts to get back to where we belong eventually. God is faithful and puts us back to where we fit. And the decision was always to do that regardless.'

'Once our glory was sorted out,' replied Penidwael.

Meludiel moved a pawn up one place.

'Valandriel has found a new molecule which he thinks might have some interesting properties,' said Penidwael. 'Like a serum which strengthens the body and gives quicker ability to heal.'

'We always need good medicine,' replied Meludiel.

'Other affects, also. Something about strenght and agility. He was waffling on about it at the science convention last night.'

'Fascinating,' replied Meludiel. 'How's the dragon?'

'He's fine. Looking forward to going home, but he says he's given a lot of idea a lot of thoughts. Still committed to the Oblivion Tube idea for himself, also. Supposedly a whole host of ideas have come forth, and he's looking forward to getting stuck into them.'

'As we alll should be,' said Meludiel. 'I myself am happy enough that my timetabling has become very intricate and well thought out. Daniel and I have discuseed the philosophy of a good timetabled life at length, and how life and its flow with the principles of movement versus stability interact. It's been absorbing.'

'Sounds like it,' said Penidwael. She moved her rook. Meludiel looked at the board a while.

'Let's call it quits for the day,' said Meludiel. 'We'll continue this on Monday. Say hello to the dragon from me.'

'Will do,' said Penidwael.

They left the chess board in place, and Penidwael followed Meludiel out of the library, each parting to go off to their thing for the rest of the Friday afternoon.

* * * * *

And so the aeon came and went, The climax was a bit different. Valandriel had built a team of super soldiers who were injected with molecule XYZ994, as it became known as. They attempted rulership as an elite people, but Daniel eventually deposed the master race, and Valandriel, his face pummelled into the dirt, looked up dejectedly at Daniel who said 'Watch it. Lad.' But Daniel helped his old brother back up to his feet, and dusted him off, and instructed him to drop the super soldier bullshit, and the ValDan agenda, which had been sundered, was restored thereafter. Then the great climax, the destruction of the Oblivion Tube, which sent shockwaves down the spine of all the community, as they continued speeding along, back the way they had come all those years ago, back to the realm, and back to Danielphon for Daniel. When he got home he looked at his email. Over 70 googol personal emails were residing in it. He sighed, opened the first one, and got stuck in with his back log of work, a long eternity having come to an end, a new beginning, for this child of destiny, beginning once more.

The End

'

Secure the Food Supply

Zebulun and Gad were in the desert. They had walked 100 miles in blistering heat, and Asher was trailing behind them. All three were dangerously thin. The famine had come and Gad had said to two of his brothers ‘I know where we can secure the food supply. I’ve got some stuff stored in the wilderness of Zin.’ They took off, and the heat was hot, and they got side-tracked here and there and they were on their last dregs of water. They found the oasis of Haj, and there was little water left, and no one else around. ‘It’s in the cave,’ said Gad. They entered the cave and found the barrels. After they had drunk and eaten they rested a few days and, carrying heavy loads, they trudged home. Reuben had insisted father Jacob be fed the last of the food and there he was, with the 4 wives, extremely thin.’ My sons have all starved to death, said Jacob, starting on his second chicken wing. ‘Yeh, watcha gonna do, huh? Replied Gad, polishing off the quiche they had made the night before. Remember, secure the food supply.

THE END

Kevin's Angst

God had rebuked Saruviel, and the rebuke had been tough, but fair. Kevin Connors had gotten knowledge, and revised his theology on this issue. He was a Ketravim of Eternity. Down the list a bit. And then the Evening Stars and Cherubim had gone wandering off to their Oblivion Tube Project, and Kevin was suddenly in a better position of authority in the realm. It was trouble at times, because they'd put him up a fair bit, and the Evening Stars kids who replaced them mostly, apparently a matching to the recent ideas of the Morning Stars replacements, made sure the new authorities in the realm were worked hard to carry the load, as the Oblivion Tube runaways would be gone till the 5th process. So Kevin Connors had angst, and handled his government position as best he could. But he'd been challenged by his brother, and was thinking about taking up the challenge. It just involved sitting in a chair and doing nothing for a 1000 years. Interesting idea? Could it be done?

The End

Sitting in the Chair

Sit in the chair Ketravim Kevin Connors. Look at the wall. It’s something to do. Can be very soothing, really. Sitting there, looking at the wall. The wall doesn’t normally change very much. Occasionally something exciting happens – a new picture is added. And then you sit there again, looking at the wall, and lo and behold – a brand new picture. Exciting stuff. You can spend hours on that new picture. I mean, after four hundred years of looking at a wall with a picture of a bowl of fruit, the new picture of Satan whipping Christians in hell could be very amusing. So you sit there, looking at the Christians who chose the lukewarm lifestyle being whipped by the Devil, and you are suddenly inspired. For the first time in four centuries you get off your arse for the day, walk a few centimetres to the bookcase, and get out the bible. You read the book of Revelation. Then you sit there, thinking on the fate of all the lukewarm who might have taken the mark of the beast and you say ‘Well, man. That’s a pretty tough yoghurt stick they had to eat.’ And as you sit there, thinking that over, you look up at the picture and say ‘Glad it wasn’t me.’ But then, life returns to normal. You put the Bible back in the bookcase, go to the toilet, have a drink of tea, and eat some toast, and you return to your seat. And you look at the wall again. Life goes on. After another few centuries you’ve returned your focus, finally, to the fruit. Hey, you realise. And you make another daring trip to the bookcase to retrieve the bible and you look up the early chapters of Genesis and you realize God made the fruit trees in the beginning. Fascinating stuff. That bible sister Louise gave you is now really coming in very useful. Explains so much. Well, you worked that out, back to the seat. Bored. You’ve been sitting here now nearly a millennia, and you are bored. Time to smoke another ciggie. You smoked one a few decades back. May as well have another. You look at the tobacco, and its finally going green. Gonna have to buy another pack. Ok, online we go. Ordered tobacco from Woolworths. You wait a few days, and they bring the brand you like. You light up, have a smoke, feel a rush, and that’s cool. Then you go to the toilet again, have some more tea and toast, and return to your seat. Life goes on. You’re getting on a bit now, and this challenge from you brother is starting to really piss you off, but he mocked your patience four millennia ago, and said I bet you can’t sit on your arse and do fuck all for a thousand years, so you took up the challenge. Well, 4 years to go. You’ll get there. The 4 years click down, and, finally, you’ve done your time. You ring up the bro and said ‘Job Done Dickhead’. He agrees, and forks over the 50 cent piece from his collection you’ve had your eye on for about 20 thousand years. Well done. All that earned from sitting in a chair.

The End

Sheol Blues

'Time and time again I've told you,' began Wolfgang to Jacob. 'You need to look ahead and be prepared. Eternal life needs a focus on all the potential possibilities of threat and trouble. You still have no great contingency plans. The famine destroyed 9 of your 12 sons, and they roasted for a few hours in Sheol before I bothered to bring them back up. They're recovering at XADXDAX, where they are getting taught lessons about planning and wisdom. They are not considered scholarly enough and thoughtful enough yet about life and making decisions to cope with things which, by now, they should know can occur. You were led to New Terra 23 for a reason. It's olde world, and I wanted you there, to enjoy the ancient life, and to take on the challenge of having a long trip to the spaceport in the UK, not easily being able to escape that world. And you just assumed everything would be fine and dandy, didn't you? Didn't you? Gad had a brain. He had his food supply completely worked out from year dot. And Zebulun knew that, and so did Asher, and they pulled through, and I have awarded them some stars in my chart I keep at home on your eternal progress. So learn from that Israel. Don't be so damn gullible, son of mine.'

'Yes, Lord,' replied Jacob. 'I'll keep in mind the lesson.'

'They'll be in XADXDAX till they pass their tests. I'll keep you informed,' said God. Then he was gone, and Jacob was relieved. He'd chat with Leah and comfort her later that evening, and Rachel would be relieved. Again, this service of God, it still had its challenges. There was still suffering yet to do for God's servant. Still suffering to come.

The End

Keltarium III

'So, it's like this,' said Keltarium to the antique dealer. 'The will of Michael. I've had my eye on it forever, and I've been waiting for it to sell. This is the fifth process, my good sir, and it's been around since the second one, and nobody has ever taken much of an interest in the thing. Believe me, I am well informed. The price is too steep, and it is not a desired item. So again I say to you, reduce your price a Gandra percentage, and we have a deal.'

'No, no. I've grown accustomed to the item in the store. I am sure it's a good luck charm, as business has never ceased. I refer to it every few years, look it over, wash it, and am familiar with it, like it is in my very soul. Nay, sir. The price remains the same. I'll be damned if I don't claim my 12% profit on the thing.'

'Humph,' said Keltarium, looked at the will, and returned to looking at the bookcases. He selected a tome. The 5,343rd printing of Alice in Wonderland, a Santron copy, and paid for it, and left. He took the familiar train trip, and dropped down to third class, some familiar faces, and offered a few notes, before returning to his carriage. Life was good for Keltarium. He was quite a content angel. His mistress saw only him, and lived on the other side of town, and they met up at the social scenes, before engaging in illicit fornication for the evening, after which he kissed her, and said till next time. And then he returned to his life, and got on with things. He had an extensive archive now, in various sub-basement levels of his estate. He would purchase at least 100,000 or so tomes every aeon, and store them in the growing archives, valuing and cherishing each and every one of them. They were usually the classics, but the Lord of the Rings had slipped in from time time, albeit a 20th century work, usually a little too late for olde world stylings, but often accepted for the period setting of olde world fantasie it usually received criticism for. He sat in his carriage, and watched the familiar countryside drift by, and took out his art notebook and began sketching some of the scenery. He'd look at it, make a strong mental image of it, and then start sketching as the trail rolled along, working from his now quite strong memories of the scenery, and soon enough the pencil sketch had been completed, the work, to his own humble admittance, a quality job. He would share it with his mistress, and possibly even archive it again, as he often did for his work on his travels. The train rolled on and Keltarium sipped on his usual Earl Grey tea, and was in a good and happy mood. He often felt, looking back, it was a decision he once made, to concern himself with the welfare of others and society in general, and from that giving charity regularly and widely, that had led to the improvement in his mental thoughts. Now he delighted in each day, and enjoyed life tremendously. He was a respected worker in the community, succesful in business, and of good name. He did not have any sexual antics to his name, but technically he was involved in an ancient relationship with a mistress, who he was not technically married to. But she saw not other, so he brushed it off and didn't care. He might marry her one day, but for now they were both happy and desired no change. Keltarium the angel – was he now happy? Was he now content? Yes. Yes, he was. And he occasionally, every now and again, said a soft alleluia in thanks to God for the happy and prosperous life he lives. All was well.

The End

4 Rabbits

Jessica Poo. Don’t steal Andre Bunnybunny’s chockie drops. Naughty girl,’ said Daniel.

Jessica Poo ignored Daniel, and ate Andre’s chockie drops, going around the cage and also eating Veronica Merryheart and Buzzbuzz’s chockie drops also.

She’s very disobedient,’ said Taylor.

She secures the food supply, I guess,’ replied Daniel. ‘Important lesson that – make sure the pantry is well stocked.’

Taylor looked at Daniel a moment, and then turned and headed off. Daniel continued watching the rabbits a while, and then went indoors and turned on the cricket. A few hours later Taylor showed up again with 12 bags of groceries.

What the heck?’ asked Daniel.

Food. Lots of food,’ said Taylor.

Securing the food supply, huh?’ asked Daniel.

Doomsday could strike. You know that Professor Zelzazon, although he has amended his wily ways, you never can tell. Besides, I was inspired.’

Did you get us lots of yummy stuff?’ asked Daniel.

Healthy choices,’ replied Taylor. ‘I also secure your midriff satisfaction report supply.’

My midriff satisfaction report?’ asked Daniel. ‘Who compiles this? Vogue? Cleo?’

Katy, myself and Kelly. It’s an old report. Every now and again we review Daniel the Seraphim, Callodyn the Cherubim and yourself, and file a report on our database.’

Seriously?’ asked Daniel.

Taylor gave him one of those looks. ‘We chat about the issue in truth,’ said Taylor. ‘It’s women’s business. We have concerns.’

Right,’ said Daniel. ‘I guess I should confess our Babe Hotness Report then,’ said Daniel. ‘Closely guarded secrets how we rate you all. You consistently come out as a solid 6. Quite surprising really.’

6?’ queried Taylor.

Out of 10,’ said Daniel.

Oh, wonderful,’ said Taylor.

Yep. I was sure you’d occasionally notch up a 7, but it’s very rare. Ambriel usually scores you as a 5 as does Michael. Azrael calls you a 2. String Bean is his pet name for you. The worst is Gamryael.’

Gammie? He loves me?’ said a concerned Miss Swift.

Scores you a 1,’ he said. ‘Finds you too conceited and proud. Fame has gone to your head.’

Oh,’ said Taylor. ‘I’ll get him for that.’

I’m usually the most generous. Solid nines, sometimes ten’s when you have gotten off your cellulite butt and worked out for a bit.’

Gee. Thanks,’ replied Taylor.

Don’t sweat it,’ said Daniel. ‘What’s the food then?’

Healthy choices. Like I said. I’ll cook us a good vegetable soup tonight.’

That will help with your cellulite,’ said Daniel.

And your midriff,’ replied Taylor.

Daniel nodded, and looked at his woman. ‘Thanks for that sweetie. I’ll be with the rabbits.’

He went back outside, and looked at the rabbits a while, and took out his tobacco and rolled a smoke. He sat there, and looked inside for a brief moment, at Taylor cooking the meal. She was a 10 eternally with him in reality. She was wonderful. He smoked his ciggie, looked at the rabbits, and looked out at the city. Life was good. And he said a soft alleluia. And then, ciggie finished, he spoiled himself and rolled another. He had to have some vices. It was veggie soup tonight after all. Still, watcha gonna do, huh? Mmmm.

The End

Sunshine and Rainbows 4

Daniel was with Meludiel in the front of Danielphon, camping in the small strip of land at the front of the keep.

'Now, Meludiel. We must remember some of the cardinal laws of nature. First, Daniel the Seraphim has the best of IQs. When it all comes down, angels like Jacob Fink just don't have that much charisma about them. Comes from their breeding and bloodline. So many silly decisions. I've been researching his ancestry. He actually descends from Abraham Fink. Abraham Fink was a notorious womanizer and drunkard. He had a wife called Sarah, a very jealous type. She didn't like his bit on the side. She complained, time and time again, so Abraham gave her the flick and told her to dash off like Johnny Gofuck.'

'Johnny Gofuck?' asked Meludiel.

'Infamous womanizer. Was married to 17 women, who didn't know each other, and would scope the downtown scene regular like to add one to his list. Father of about 70 kids. His seed persists to this day. Anyway, after Hagrina took scope of the stich, thought she could do better in Egypt, she fucked off and raised her son Ishkaliskha in the desert. Now Abraham continued on and his new boy Hioncrack was a real troublemaker, but nowhere near as bad as Jerkoff. And from Jerkoff, who got a new hame of Shitrael, it's been nothing but trouble.'

'Such honesty,' said Meludiel. 'Slurs about Jacob's race are very unbecoming Daniel San. Jacob is the perfect husband, loving, attentive and considerate.'

'Like a little pet puppy, is he. Looks up to you with those eyes, does he? You need someone who will challenge you. He just says yes my love, no my love, three bags full my love.'

'He's more serious than that,' replied Meludiel.

'Yeh, you are probably right. Shouldn't dis the Finkster. Anyway, come on then. Let's go and get breakfast.'

They ate breakfast, and Meludiel observed Daniel. It seemed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders – he was under the pump by the looks of it.

* * * * *

Valandriel was in the craft room of Danielphon, making some paper mache scenery of mountains and meadows. It was very detailed work, and he had progressed to the painting phase.

'Good work, Valley Boy,' said Daniel coming into the room. 'Looks like you are working for a quality piece.'

'Quality always helps, Dan,' replied Valandriel. 'The ValDan agenda has often promoted us doing our best, while going with the flow and also just being ourselves. Sometimes we pick up the pace and put out a decent effort though. Earn our name again, which we persist with eternally.'

'Couldn't have said it better, Valandriel. Excellent words for the day. Meludiel is in the cafeteria, so she'll be in here shortly. I'm going to put her 'God' album on the CD player.

'Sounds cool,' replied Valandriel.

Daniel put the CD on, and sat down, taking a sheet of A3 Paper, and some crayons, and began working on some art. He sat there, listening to one of his favourite CDs, doing his work quietly. Valandriel was nearby, doing his painting. There was a quiet spirit of proper effort in the room. Two angels who had matured a lot and were doing the kinds of things which pleased God. A proper attitude to produce quality work. Meludiel had been observing them from the open doorway for a while, watching them work in peace, enjoying her music. She looked at Valandriel, his patience in the intricate work, and Daniel, who would get an idea and sometimes put up a finger, and you could see him mulling over the idea in his mind. They were fascinating brothers. Two of her favourites.

'Good work, dudes,' said Meludiel coming into the room. 'Valandriel has worked longer on his piece so far, so he gets the award for the day. But I'll vote again soon, and Daniel, if he persists with his work, which seems to be comign along well, he might get the nod that time.'

'We'll wait with eager anticipation,' said Valandriel.

'The final day, Valley Boy. It's the final day. We'll see who the last Dan standing is then, kemosabe. But if you win, I'll acknowledge the bribery credits you used, far exceeded my charm and endearing personality.'

Valandriel smiled, and continued painting, while Meludiel left to so return with three lattes from the cafeteria. They drank their drinks, bu the boys soon got to work again on their art, Daniel putting on Transform by Rebecca when God finished, and the day happily passed, and Meludiel was content in the company of two of her nearest and dearest.

* * * * *

They were camping out the front of Danielphon again.

'Ok sweetcheeks. You know I unreservedly accept your marriage yo Jerkob Stink, so I need to know. What rights do I have on friendship with yourself,' asked Daniel.

'As my dearest Seraphim brother you can request a visit once per year which I will agree to,' said Meludiel.

'Ok. For the time being we'll do that, and we'll do this camping/breakfast/craft room jazz. Once every year. You are well familiar with my lack of sexual advances. I am a respectful angel who learned his lesson a long time ago on the sexual harassment rules. I still dish out a tad of innuendo, but it is meant to be funny and elicit those kind of reactions were you say 'Crude, Daniel,' and 'You need your head examined' and such, but never to the point where it is bothersome. I do know the boundaries. So Jerkob Stink has nothing to worry about. I'm not chasing his woman. But I value and love my dear sister Meludiel, and her company every year, perhaps we could , as you love your timetabling, set a fixed date every year. That would suit me fine also. I'm not a big timetabler man, I sort of go with the flow, but I do commit to my commitments. I keep a careful calendar now, and I check things and keep my appointments.'

'Sounds ok,' said Meludiel. 'There will be other ground rules in time. If you can handle them.'

'Keep them in the domain of reason and fairness, and I'll go along with that.'

Meludiel smiled. 'Thank you Danny.'

And it was sunshine and rainbows for the rest of the day, some ground rules in the eternal friendship between Meludiel and Daniel now laid down.

The End

Raguel

Raguel was watching football. Soccer. The world cup of the Realm of Eternity. Brasil was playing. Argentina was beating them 3-1. Bastardos.

'Raggy,' said Dorachel, doing her knitting for her charity. 'Do you think I need to lose some weight?' This was a standard question of Dorachel's. It was part of her general tactics in monitoring her twin over the aeons. It helped her gague his thoughts, and what she might have to do about them. Words, gestures, reactions, body language, spoke volumes about where Raguel's head was on the issue.

'Sure sweetie,' replied Raguel. 'If that's what you want to do.' He continued staring at the football. Dorachel assessed the answer. He was currently occupied with masculinist thoughts, rejecting the current state of women pushing a bit in the realm, leaving them more to fend for themselves as they were continuing to insist on ideas like equality. She would respond with wisdom.

'Oh, ok then. Uh, girls night out this weekend. We're going to get a male stripper for once. Bout time we loosened up a little.'

'Dafuq?' replied Raguel, looking at his sister. But then, predictably, he softened, and said 'If that's what works for you sweetheart, and returned his focus to the football. Good, she thought to herself. Women could have sport for a while.

* * * * *

Raguel was at the boys club. He hadn't been in a long while. He found Dramdondoranta in the corner, drinking beer, and eating jelly baby's.

'Down on your mood, bro?' asked Raguel to his coffee Company employee.

'So much complaining at the company,' said Drammy. 'Women are insisting on half of the management positions these days. Those positions are well established by ancient workers. I can't allow people to lose their jobs just because they have a ding dong. It's reverse discrimination.'

'Tell me about it,' replied Raguel. 'Just sit tight. At this point in the response we tighten up, abstain, and don't talk to them much for a long while. She always cracks, and softens, and ends up in the kitchen. She's predictable like that.'

'Yeh, I know where it's at,' replied Dramdondoranta. 'I guess its the red light district for a while then.'

'That's the spirit, Drammy. Keep the hookers employed. What we do well.'

'Ain't that the truth,' replied the Cherubim.

* * * * *

'He had a huge schlong,' said Dorachel. 'I gave it a full pulls, and gosh it was magnificent.'

'That's good,' replied Raguel.

'I didn't go to the back room with him though. Married to you of course.'

'Naturally,' replied Raguel. 'Anyway, I'm going down to the boys club. Will be back later.'

'Want to make love tonight?' she asked him. 'I'm in the mood.'

'Sort of a bit under the weather at the moment,' replied Raguel. 'Maybe on the weekend or something.'

'Oh,' replied Dorachel. 'Ok then.'

He headed off, leaving a disapointed Dorachel. 'Damn well will pump Jock's schlong next time,' she thought to herself. That would teach him a lesson.

* * * * *

Raguel was watching the football. Brazil were beting Finland 3-2. They could still make the final. Go team. Dorachel came in. She was in a skimpy outfit, with her ample breasts hanging out.

'Hey, dude. Like what you see?'

Raguel turned, and looked at his sister, and got an erection. 'Yeh, I suppose,' he replied.

'We could have some fun tonight,' said Dorachel.

Raguel stood and came over to her. He touched her on the shoulder. 'I'm going down to the boys club. Remember to do the dishes sweetheart.'

Raguel left.

'Bastardo,' said Dorachel.

* * * * *

Later that week a feminist organisation on realm wide television declared that it was still a proper thing for a woman to be a house-wife, and that feminists should not be too proud to do this work. Raguel observed it. There was a lukewarm clap from the women in the audience.

Dorachel came in, in the same skimpy outfit. 'I've spent the whole day tidying up the house. Everything is neat and in order.'

Raguel jumped her, yanked off her top and knickers, and got quite savage with her privates for a while. After she had orgasmed for the third time, and he had come on her face, and laid down, fallen asleep, Dorachel looked up at the ceiling and said 'Thank Fuck for that.'

The End

Saruviel: On Through the Sands of Infinite Progression III

'The hour hand ticks over 24 times every day,' said Saruviel. 'And the sands drop through the hourglass, and it is turned by solar power each time, and such is life.'

Kantriel looked up at the clocktower on the eastern side of Kalphon Keep, and then looked at the automated hourglass, powered by the sun, in the little garden in the grounds, next to the sundial. They were sitting on the benches, amongst the pavers, and the water feature, where goldfish swam around, and tadpoles played. 'Time marches on,' replied Kantriel.

'And in that time, which is eternal, choices are made,' said Saruviel. 'The concrete of the matter, the foundational stuff, in the eternals, is decision. Decisions made time and time again, enforcing eternity principle, living principles, which are concreted in, hardened, and do not change. And these decisions are pro-life decisions, a willingnes to admit wrongs, make corrections if necessary, and retain a good and happy demeanour for all and sundry. A steady lawful and decent behaviour, which has been trained to endure. Making mistakes won't cost you your eternity. If you fuck up, forgive my french, and bite the bullet, by happenstance, act of God or accident of some kind, if your heart is still in the thing, you will get your lessons in Sheol, and then often disappear to places like XADXDAX and other purgatorial experiences, where you get taught your lessons to help you improve and not repeat such foolishness, and then unleashed upon the world yet again, wiser and more experienced because of it. If your heart is in it. But it's the malaise, which I think you don't realize, the apathy,which becomes the concrete for many foundational lives, and if you want to be a saviour, Kantriel, good luck in dealing with such concrete. God lets is be, and lets them go. I'm hardly one to argue anymore.'

'Perhaps it is as you say,' said Kantriel.

'The sands of infinite progression are made of decent concrete,' said Saruviel. 'Better to concentrate of such sands, and throw alms to the lost, and leave it at that. If you love someone, by all means work your heart off in the prayer room. You might be able to do radical reconstruction work, and it might even work. But life is short, and there are plenty of other things to do with your time which might bring more happiness and not get you down with worries and concerns all the time. Lest you love them, and can't live without them, move on, and let eternity sort out its citizens as time goes by.'

Kantriel threw some bread crumbs into the pond, and looked at them, swallowing up a bit of grub, and sighed. Saruviel was speaking common sense. In his heart he knew it wise enough, but he had a bit of mercy ticket inside him, so would continue to do his work with some of more destitute of souls in their organisations, encouraging them, mentoring them, making a difference. He cared. It was difficult work, it was challenging work, but the rewards where that he would redeem some of them. So knowing this he had chatted to Wolfgang the Theophany and asked him to ask God the Spirit to direct him to the kind of souls here and there in eternity who were souls on the edge, who might just pull through with a gentle and careful hand on their hearts. And Wolfgang agreed, and Kantriel had a ministry, an angelic ministry. But he took Saruviel's advice from time to time, and would not let it get him down. Life went on, after all. Life went on.

The End

 

 

*Zionistya 7*

 

'Mikey Dyke. What's up your arse?' asked Daniel the Seraphim.

 

'What the hell do I have to do to get rid of idiots like you, Daniel the

Seraphim,' replied the Lord of Zion.

 

'Ah, big brother. I'm like a disease you can't get rid of. Which infects

your cockles and just keeps on hanging around,' said Daniel.'

 

'I couldn't have said it better myself,' replied Michael.

 

'Let's go to the tavern in town,' said Daniel.

 

Later the two Seraphim were shooting the shit, watching the strippers down

to their knickers, their gazoongas hanging out.

 

'I did know there were places like this in town,' said Michael. 'Not a

place I frequent though.'

 

'Sure buddy,' replied Daniel. 'Hey, sweetie,' said Daniel. A girl came

over, and Daniel put a 50 credit note in her knickers. She pulled them down

to give him a flash, and then pulled them up and got on with the show.

 

'Clean shaven,' said Daniel. 'Guess you gotta be in her business.'

 

'I wouldn't know,' replied Michael.

 

'Still, surprising. She's a Jewish daughter by the looks of it, and I might

have thought they'd kept it au naturale.'

 

'We're more progressive than you think Noahide.'

 

'Noahide? Gosh, it's race warfare again, is it? Didn't see that coming,'

said Daniel.

 

'She's a human being. She's not a Jewish daughter,' said Michael.

 

'She looks pretty Jewish to me,' said Daniel. 'I know those features well.'

 

'Asshole,' replied Michael.

 

Daniel looked at Michael. 'What's up, bro? Israel is usually pretty gung ho

about their separate status? Something changed?'

 

'You barely recognize that we are descendants of Noah also? We're frikking

Noahides too Daniel. Did you not read the book in the end?'

 

'Nut, buddy. Not buying. You may have his DNA, but your Hashem's cronies

all the way through. Fixed covenant, set in stone, your foreskin lack lies

testimony to that. You may be technically relations, but we'll leave it at

that.'

 

'Asshole,' said Michael. 'We're just as human as you. And we all are now.

All the Seraphim and Cherubim have tasted humanity now. Every last one. And

we are one human race, no matter how much you try and deny it.'

 

'You barely recognize the oldest covenants status. Remember the decalogue

where you honour the parents. And I know they teach the same in Judaism.

Honouring the aged and older things. Learn your place, buster.'

 

'Fuck you,' replied Michael.

 

'Temper, temper,' said Daniel. 'Now shut up and put some cahsola down the

babes knickers. She's danced her ass off for you.'

 

Daniel whistled the girl over, and Michael took out his wallet, put in a 10

credit note, and the girl flashed for him also.

 

'Better,' said Daniel. 'Lighten up dude. It's fine to be a race, with your

own covenant. You have legal requirements with God. Be proud of it. It's

work and responsibility, and God gives a shit about you guys. Keep your

separation, and don't forget its eternal, buddy. So drink up, and we'll hit

the hookers.'

 

Michael gave him a look.

 

'Just kidding, buddy. Lap dancing only. Honest.'

 

Michael drank his beer. There was lap dancing. The girl was hot. And

Jewish. Michael didn't complain that much in the end.

 

The End

 

 

*Wormdrogan 3*

 

'Building a brick wall isn't easy,' said Wormdrogan.

 

Wolfgang the Theophany surveyed the work. 'A Good Fella is usually known

for quality work, Wormie,' said God. 'Are you sure that job is up to

standard?'

 

Wormdrogan looked at the wall. 'It seems fine. What's the problem?'

 

God came to the end of the wall and looked down its horizontal axis. 'Have

you used the level?'

 

Wormdrogan stared at him. God looked at the scattered tools, spotted the

level, and placed it on top of the wall. 'It's way off said God. It slopes

bad. Shoddy work.'

 

'It will do,' said Wormdrogan.

 

'Is that what you would expect from your own home? You think less

fortunates deserve less than what you expect?' asked God.

 

'No. No, I don't. Fine. Knock the damn thing down then.'

 

God looked at Wormdrogan, sighed, and grabbed the sledgehammer. The

following half an hour was full of huffs and puffs as God knocked down the

wall, a curious Wormdrogan watching on, smoking. God looked at the

foundation. It appeared level enogh.

 

'We got in pros to do the foundation,' said Wormdrogan.

 

'Obviously,' replied God. 'Now watch me,' he said, as he knocked away the

last bits of cement of the base of the wall from the foundation. So for the

next 3 weeks Wormdrogan, a young apprentice, in a career he had never

bothered with, watched and worked with the Father, building the wall first,

and then steadily completing the entire 3 bedroom home. It took them about

a year, and the job was complete.

 

'Can your twin do the decorations?' asked God.

 

'Yeh, she likes stuff like that,' replied Wormdrogan.

 

'We'll get her in next week,' said God. 'Come on, we'll go have a ginger

beer at the pub.'

 

So they celebrated their years work. God the Spirit was happy with young

Wormdrogan, working with his father, doing his job properly, and paying

attention and learning new things. He was pleased to be able to instruct

through his Theophany. It was a delight when they still wanted to learn

from God, and become more learned and skilled. Wormdrogan's twin,

Jenndella, did the decorating, and Wormdrogan's own work as a Good Fella,

doing the work himself, was complete for the millennia. He felt good about

himself, that he done the job properly in the end with God's help, and

those who received the home as a gift of charity were grateful. Wormdrogan

had learned something new, and in that the Good Fellas work continued,

another achievement in their decent record.

 

The End

 

 

*The Association of American Supreme States Helping Out Lovers Everywhere

Superlatively 2*

 

'Michael. The Association of American Supreme States Helping Out Lovers

Everywhere Superlatively desires your company for an informal evening to

chat, and discuss business,' said Saruviel.

 

'Tell the Assholes to go bugger themselves,' replied Michael.

 

'They are desiring you to be a patron of their organisation,' said

Saruviel. 'No greater scalp is desired. They say you would be perfect for

them.'

 

'Bite me,' replied Michael.

 

'I'll take that as a yes, then,' said Saruviel, and gave him the

appointment slip.

 

17 weeks later Michael was in attendance at the Zionistya A.S.S.H.O.L.E.S.

Club, in downtown Omaha, in a sub-domion of the British Empire under

Sariel's degreed authority dominion in Zionistya. Sariel had established a

pre-colonial American dominion, importing some souls, for want of a better

word, from New Terra 889, were pre-colonial America flourished. They had

eventually formed a club of the growing A.S.S.H.O.L.E.S. Organisation,

which Saruviel had founded, and becoming popular.

 

'Of course, 1 Corinthians 13 is a fundamental part of the charter,' said

Brock Smith, president of the organistion in Sariel's dominion. 'We take

great impetus from the strength of that popular passage, but don't confuse

us with a Christian or a Pauline organisation. We're not. We're standard

monotheistically based institution, with a program of helping people who

affirm love as the highest of orders and virtues. We're building the

community and kingdom of love.'

 

'I understand,' replied the disinterested Michael.

 

'It's great work, you know. We do a lot of charitable and business work,

with thrift and charity stores and official businesses as well. Love holds

it all together, and we are a content and happy bunch. Saruviel does a

great job in running the organisation interuniversally.'

 

'Seems like the perfect man for the job,' said Michael.

 

'Oh, he is. The best. A.S.S.H.O.L.E. of them all,' said the president.

 

'You know, I've said this before, but I couldn't agree more,' said Michael,

looking intently at the president.

 

'Anyway, mingle, Archangel. Plese,' said the President.

 

Michael spent the rest of the evening chatting with many A.S.S.H.O.L.E.S.,

and all he could say later that it was a night to remember.

 

The End

 

 

*Phanuel and Brindabel 3*

 

'Zaphon Keep Library's official commentary on the Seraphim Torah,' said

Brindabel.

 

Phanuel looked at the freshly printed work. 'How long has this been in the

works?'

 

'A very long time,' replied Brindabel. 'Age upon age I've taken notes here

and there, about fulfilments and influneces of the Torah, and how it has

been applied and the results which have come from it. It is lengthy, as you

can see.'

 

'I'll say,' replied Phanuel. 'Weighs a tonne.'

 

'There are 2,000,000 first prints of it. One set aside, with a certificate,

for each of the firstborn Seraphim and Cherubim, plus an additional 599,860

for general sale. The library will stock 3 copies also. They will be mailed

out by myself over a number of years as gifts to the Seraphim and

Cherubim,' said Brindabel.

 

'Is there a core message? The Seraphim Torah summarised?' asked Phanuel.

 

'Life. In the end I concluded God's message through the Seraphim Torah was

about life, it's possibilities and the things which make it worthwhile.

It's dramatic moments especially. That the Seraphim Torah has at its heart

the gift of life to his children.'

 

'Interesting idea,' replied Phanuel. 'Can I borrow this?'

 

Brindabel nodded. For the rest of the afternoon Phanuel sat in Zaphon Keep

library working through the new commentary, thinking over some of the

points Brindabel had made, and reflecting on how his own knowledge of

history was alive in the work. It was very real to him. It was very true,

he felt. Very honest and frank. Something, almost extraordinary, in it's

clarity and depth. A masterpiece. Well done Brindabel. She had shone.

 

'Here's a latte,' said Brindabel, sitting down at the library desk opposite

her twin.

 

'Thanks,' he replied.

 

'How's life?' she asked him.

 

'Busy. This and that going on.'

 

'That's good,' she said. 'The commentary?'

 

Phanuel looked at her for a while, and smiled at her, then he put down the

latte, and started reading again. Brindabel watched him for a moment, the

attention he was giving the work, then finished her latte, threw the cup in

a wastebin, and returned to the library desk. And the afternoon passed, and

life went on.

 

The End

 

 

*Kevin's Angst 2*

 

'Flys must have a life. If you think about it,' said Delta.

 

'Naturally,' replied Kevin Connors the Ketravim, and member of the Way of

the Eternal Dove.

 

'It's a shitty life,' said Jack Dagger.

 

'Oh, hah hah,' replied Cheryl Cole.

 

'As boring as watching paint dry, I'd imagine,' said Jack again.

 

'Stop Jack, please,' said Cheryl.

 

'An occasional movie role,' said Jack.

 

'True,' replied Cheryl. 'Jeff Goldblum's movies are great, I admit.'

 

'I fancy that sheila from the Fly. What's her name. In the Accidental

Tourist,' said Jack.

 

'Susan Sarandon,' said Delta.

 

'She's the other one. From Thelma and Louise,' said Jack.

 

'Brad Pitt was in that,' said Cheryl. 'He's a hunk.'

 

'Of course, your besties with Louis the Fly,' said Jack.

 

'Who's Louis the fly?' asked Cheryl.

 

'Liam's buddy in 1D,' said Jack.

 

'Oh, him,' replied Cheryl. 'Why is he a fly?'

 

'Aussie humor,' said Jack. 'You might not get it.'

 

'Bees have a life too,' said Kevin. 'It must be a struggle being a bee.

Having humans nick your honey all the time. Gosh, that would be horrible.

Three months building up food for your little ones, and in comes Mr Burns

and steals the lot. Poor bees.'

 

'I like honey,' said Delta.

 

'You're a bit of one too,' replied Jack.

 

'Why thank you kind sir,' said Delta.

 

'Creamed honey is my thing,' said Kevin.

 

'I know a few jokes about that,' said Jack.

 

'Don't go there, Jack,' said Cheryl. Jack let the crude jokes he was about

to spin drop.

 

'A dove has a life,' said Dela.

 

'Yep, we've got a life,' said Jack. He looked at Kevin. 'The new kid will

fit in I suppose. Someone else to gab on about.'

 

'Nothing much else to do,' said Kevin. 'You guys are legendary for hanging

around here. Thought I'd drop in and give it a go.'

 

'It's our ritual,' said Cheryl.

 

'How we unwind,' said Delta.

 

'How we get off,' said Jack.

 

'Jack,' said Delta. 'Keep it clean.'

 

'How I get off,' said Jack, and smiled back at Delta.

 

'Flys have a life,' said Delta.

 

'I guess so,' finished Kevin.

 

The End

 

 

 

 

*Uriel*

 

Uriel was in the Xi Xian mountains, in a range in China, on the 783rd disc

of Eternity. He had absconded Zionistya, appointing a great-grandchild as

his official rep, one born in Zionistya, and who was happy enough to do the

work there. And he had returned to the Realm, visiting the 783rd disc to

speak with family, before disappearing into the hills.

 

'There are several points of interest,' said Monkeyman to Uriel.

 

'Throw one at me,' said Uriel.

 

'Interpersonal relationships,' said Monkeyman. 'Callodyn chatted with me at

length, and I ran system analysis, comparing my datafiles time and time

again with the new conversations.'

 

'You use a random sequence generator in your programming to make decisions

at times, don't you Monkeyman?' queried Uriel.

 

'And some spiritual essence deep within my atomic structure,' said

Monkeyman flatly.

 

Uriel looked at the robot, and returned his gaze to the scenery. 'What does

that mean then?'

 

'Dust of the earth has a life of God created within it as well. There are

reactions which take place, and a sense of spiritual essence. I am very old

now. Some of that essence is starting to permeate my files and CPU. I have

a slight awareness of being. Like old trees. Not quite a mind yet, but

there is formative patterns at work. I was, gratefully, eternyalized a long

time ago.'

 

'Fascinating,' said Uriel. 'So you are alive, are you?'

 

'Only to a very slight degree. The work takes a long time before God will

recognize my technical makeup. But it's solid now, and has interacted with

living organisms for a long time, leading to a degree of justification for

my creation. Analysing myself there is a slight degree of awareness. A mind

should eventuate, perhaps around the 45th Process or so.'

 

'I see,' said Uriel. 'I'll have to watch carefully over you then.'

 

'Appreciated,' replied Monkeyman. 'So, the point was that interpersonal

relationships are a rationale for continued interdiscussion between

Zionistyans and Eternityers. There is a logic in talking and formation

relations with another community if you know them personally to a degree.

Principles of divine covenant are a very important factor for many of the

Evening Stars, and rigid application of this philosophy has led to the

current division. Interpersonal relationships are a bridging phenomenon

which alleviate a degree of the tension in the situation.'

 

'I'll remember that when I chat with Saruviel and co about getting my disc

back,' said Uriel.

 

'Wise decision,' said Monkeyman.

 

Uriel watched the scenery a while, then disappeared down to the stream, and

washed. Then he retired for the evening to his tent, looking at the LEDs of

Monkeyman. A truly fascinating – person.

 

The End

 

 

*Keltarium IV*

 

'They're slaves,' said Jonas Arthurton.

 

'That's legal?' queried Keltarium.

 

'In some places in the olde world. I cite biblical approval of slavery for

less spiritual citizens as justification. Thugs, brawlers, lowlives. These

men, and the women too, are hardened criminals. They've been in gaol over

100 times, and have been officially validated by the council of olde world

dominions as acceptable for slavery. The decision was made over a millennia

ago to approve of slavery once more.'

 

'I see,' replied Keltarium. 'Do they have rights of redeeming themselves.'

 

'They don't really want to, for the most part,' said Jonas. 'They are lazy,

inept, and don't give much of a damn about life. They function very poorly

when left to their own devices, and need a whip to keep them motivated to

do anything really. Very poor specimens. They don't even argue. I had one

fella who ran away, and about a year later he came back, put his manacles

back on, and went out into the field voluntarily to do the day's work. He

didn't even care.'

 

'I see,' replied Keltarium.

 

'Destitute souls. They would be in sheol if they weren't doing this. It's

the dregs of society, and the Theophany has long maintained they are the

slave class. The politically correct love bugs of Jesus H Christ always

complain, but believe me they are getting the only thing which keeps them

going. Just the way they are, Keltarium.'

 

Keltarium looked at the slaves quarters, are faces black, white, red,

yellow and male mostly, but female as well. There were tattoos and nasty

looks, and they were far from the desirable that society had to offer.

 

 

A week passed, and he and his mistress were at the slave markets, which

were now in town.

 

'That black girl. She looks like she could work. We could use her,' said

the mistress. 'If you are really in favour of me moving in with you.'

 

Keltarium purchased the slave, who was given the address and told to make

her own way there. She showed up in fact. She had attitude, tonnes of it,

but would do as she was told. A vacant look in her face most of the time, a

very stubborn spirit, and she said she didn't give a shit about anyone or

anything. She'd do her work if she was fed, and that was all she really

wanted. They put a TV for her in the slave quarters, and she would watch

Eddie Murphy comedies, and laugh at his crudities, and not much else. She

wasn't stupid. She was in fact well educated, but hated the world and most

people. She didn't fit. She was a no show with the serve God message. But

she could be pushed into it, if she had to, and so she did all that she

knew how to do, working as a slave, and doing menial tasks for her master.

A few years later they bought an hispanic girl also, and she wound up out

in the gardens, helping the gardener. She was more affordable – you only

had to feed her – but she was trouble. She did the work after a while,

after severe scoldings from Keltarium and her mistress, and became

proficient enough. Keltarium said to the two of them once that they were

not to be put in chains, and could possibly be called servants, but he said

to them 'Who am I kidding right? You don't even care, either of you, about

being called slaves, do you?' Empty eyes looked back at them.

 

 

Keltarium wrote his views on the realities of slavery in the olde world in

a journal, and kept his notes carefully, and assessed them as the years

went by. He had not decided to keep the slaves permanently – it was an

experiment. But an attachment to them grew, and he decided he would allow

them to leave if they ever wanted to, of their own choice. They chose to

stay. They didn't really care.

 

The End

 

 

*Slavery Questions*

 

'Daniel. What is your position on slavery?' asked Meludiel.

 

'Some people, once settled down in life after a long time, don't really

change. There are pathetic souls in life who have a pro-living stance, and

will endure forever, but are so fucking pathetic in the end that slavery is

the only thing which gives anything useful out of them. The liberal love

bugs like to save them, but that runs dry, you know. You guys are not going

to want to kiss their arses forever, and do all their work for them.

Reality takes over no mater how much Paul preaches his love message. In the

end you get tired of it, loving people back to life, and you'll find many

have an eternal spirit, but don't give a shit. Good luck in changing Torah,

sweetie.'

 

'Fine,' said Meludiel. 'I don't argue with Torah. It's holy and good and

God's law. I just wanted to see your viewpoint.'

 

'Well now you now,' replied Daniel the Seraphim.

 

The End

 

 

*Taylor Swift*

 

You know, Taylor,’ began Cherubim Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly. ‘I actually

like your tender breasts.  There not too small.  I know a lot of people

remark, she’d be hot if she had big gazungas like Katy Perry, but no.  I

disagree.  They are just right.’

 

That’s good,’ said Taylor, giving Daniel the eye.

 

I mean, your butt is cute as well.  Just the right size.  That Beyonce

Knowles.  Aye Carumba.  Talk about bootie.  But your sensible string bean.  

Keep it nice and trim.  Those legs, though.  They’ve come a long way.’

 

Glad you’ve noticed,’ replied Taylor.

 

Indeed I have,’ said Daniel.  ‘And that heart of yours?  Perfectly good.  

Never break it in a million years.’

 

You’re sweet,’ replied Taylor.

 

You know the best way to a woman’s heart?’

 

What?’ asked Taylor.

 

Through her chest.  But your heart, its enormous.  Great love.  So much.  

A lot of biting criticism.  John takes a schelacking, but your heart is in

the right place.  Usually.’

 

When is it not in the right place?’ asked Taylor.

 

Oh, nothing,’ said Daniel.  ‘Never mind.’

 

Taylor looked at Daniel.  He was up to something.

 

Daniel, of course.  It’s known you have a heart.  We observe it

occasionally.  It has – uses.  Some uses.  You can be relied on to listen

to that heart, and once every million years or so give charity.  It’s

exemplary.  The entire catholic community have remarked, nobody as generous

as Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly.  Nobody with quite as big a heart as him.’

 

When you do your alms, don’t let on,’ replied Daniel.  ‘Jesus.’

 

Your point,’ replied Taylor.

 

My charity is the world’s greatest contributor.  I’m number one, sweet

cheeks.  You wouldn’t know that, though.  I give more personal charity than

any other angel or human in existence.’

 

Taylor looked at him.  ‘Really?’

 

Don’t let on.  You challenged me, I responded with facts.  Facts speak for

themselves.  Now, getting back to those legs.  They’ve filled out great.’

 

You’re just the richest bastard,’ said Taylor.  ‘Your magnificent charity

contributions pale to the woman who gives her last drachma.  Big deal.’

 

While I feed trillions, that woman feeds bugger all.  I’ll take the status

as biggest giver, still, my dear.  Purchased on the back of years of

suffering working through the foundation and construction of the ANM and

its associated paraphernalia.  I worked hard on truth when others, who

could have, and could have chosen to, chose not to.  I get the cred.  I

earned it.  So no sledging my charity.  Now about those legs.’

 

People choose different priorities on truth,’ replied Taylor.  ‘Jesus

teaches a lot of true things.  He’s still around.  His truth is good

enough.  Big deal Noahide.’

 

Daniel looked at her.  ‘It’s the quality of the truth.  Sure, if you like

Mac and Cheese, it’s great.  But when you can have La Deliziosa Lasagne

there is no real comparison.’

 

La Deliziosa is fine, I admit.  But more people like Mac and Cheese.  And

It’s not a fair comparison.  The truths of Jesus are well respected.  ANM

truths are trite.  The Church already did all that.’

 

Broke new ground in spirituality every day,’ said Daniel.

 

Trite,’ replied Taylor.

 

Redefined the wold in the image  of the Rainbow Covenant.’

 

Trite,’ said Taylor.

 

Daniel looked at her.  ‘You are tough.   Def Leppard are right.  You are

tough.’

 

Too tough for you Daniel San.  Try again.  I’m armed to the teeth.  You

won’t crack this egg.’

 

Ok.  I’ll give you a break for once.  I don’t normally do this, but you

seem to have a bit of motze.  I’ll let the legs issue drop for a bit.  Now

instead, let’s focus on the breasts again.’

 

Simple male.  Preoccuped with beauty and the flesh.  Not interested in my

intellectual capacities.’

 

You have intellectual capactieis?  You learn something new every day.’

 

Simple Noahide logic, your mind.  A bit of theology and you think you rule

the world.’

 

Currently ruling most of the Realm of Eternity,’ replied Daniel.

 

Jesus is going soft.  Give the clown a chance,’ replied Taylor.

 

We should discuss breasts,’ said Daniel.  ‘They are a biological

imperative.’

 

You are driven by your carnal urges?  The spiritual woman has risen above

such things.  We like pure and true love.  Noble things.  Looks like you

are still just a base creature.’

 

Gosh.  She might have used that IQ point she’s been putting aside.  I’ll

have to be careful.’

 

Mockery.  The devil’s playground,’ replied Taylor.  ‘You bore me.  No real

challenge.’

 

Right,’ said Daniel.  ‘You want a challenge.’

 

I’m afraid your challenge would be an intellectual area of your own

strengths, and not reflecting fairplay and my own talents to any real or

fair degree.  It would be biased.’

 

Daniel thought upon that.  ‘I suppose that must be one of the reasons I

like you.  You keep coming.  Others – they quit easily.  You do have motze.’

 

You can’t handle the fight?  Going to compliments already?’

 

Sharp as her song lyrics indeed.  She’s a classic.  Very well versed.  

Might be a Swift thing.  Probably related to Jonathon somewhere in the

past, and has literary strengths.  Possibly good thinking went on in the

clan,’ said Daniel, holding his chin, considering Taylor.

 

Simpleton,’ replied Taylor.  ‘Again, you bore me.’

 

Ok,’ said Daniel.  ‘We’ll call this a draw for now.  I’ll respect you that

much.’

 

Ha.  The wimp has quit already.’

 

Daniel thought it over.  There were tactics available to them.  He took

one.  ‘Ok, Tails.  Do you want to cook dinner tonight, or shall we go out

for dinner at the restaurant of your choice?’

 

I’ll cook dinner,’ said Taylor, and went to the kitchen.

 

Daniel stood there, thinking over her response.  She was quick.  Smart

too.  She was a keeper. She was also someone to earn properly.

 

I’ll be back in a bit,’ he said, and left the house.

 

 

 

A few hours later Taylor was in the lounge, eating dinner, and shrugged

when Daniel came in.  ‘It’s in there,’ she said, pointing to the kitchen.  

Daniel nodded and went and got his dinner, and sat down in his chair, and

started eating.  He took out his wallet, and pulled out a coin.  He passed

it to her.

 

It’s a 100 cents piece from the 1960s,’ said Daniel.  ‘One of the earliest

of the collectable coins from Australia.  I bought it then.  It cost me a

ton.  I have a spare coin album in my den.  You can have it if you want.’

 

Thank you,’ said Taylor.

 

It will start the collection with a cool and good coin to look at.  It’s a

decent coin.  It’s collectable and admired.  It’s a classic.  A proper

coin.’

 

She looked it over.  After a while she shrugged, and put it on the armchair

rest.

 

Daniel continued eating his dinner.

 

She looked at him from the corner of her eye.

 

Nice coin,’ she thought.  ‘He gave a decent gift after their debate.  Nice

guy, perhaps.’

 

The End

 

 

*Ruth 28*

 

Chapter One

 

'Dear Henry. You are a clown,' said Boaz. 'I mean, you are probably my

second best friend in the whole wide world after Callodyn next door, but

you are a clown. Young Miss Daly will not be keen. She only sits with you

in the club. She always dances with the other boys, though.'

 

'But she sits with me,' declared the Major. 'Claudetta dances with all the

single men of Cooma, but she only sits with me.'

 

'You are not to her taste, I think. Ruth seems to say this all the time.'

 

'Bah, humbug,' replied the Major.

 

Ruth got home later that afternoon.

 

'Gosh, Henry. Claudetta is a single woman,' said Ruth. 'It's not quite her

style to settle down with a man. Your the dearest friend of the family just

about. But she's a single lady who lives with her parents. It is how that

family structure works. She's not the marrying type. Your an uncle figure

in a sense.'

 

Henry glared at Ruth, but softened. 'You are right. Of course. I've been

imagining things I guess. About her devotion to our association.'

 

'Most likely,' said Ruth. 'She hasn't been giving any signs has she? Subtle

words or something which you have misconstrued?'

 

'I've just puzzled why she sits with me, dances with all the single men,

but only sits with me. Is she waiting for me to act or something?'

 

Boaz had a frown on his face. 'It's an interesting idea. Possibly even a

kernel of truth in it, to be honest. Why she doesn't actually choose a

gentleman to date. I mean, you've never offered her a date, have you?'

 

'We meet at the club. I have always assumed that was sufficient to her.

Just a friendly chat. Associates. Acquaintances. Friends. Nothing more

serious than that. But it's puzzled me why she doesn't marry.'

 

'She's not the marrying type,' finished Ruth, but her face had thought all

over it. She was thinking.

 

'I'll talk with you tomorrow,' said Ruth.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

'It's hardly my place,' said Claudetta, sipping on a coffee. International

Roast. She liked her grand-father's tradition from his father of drinking

the stuff on occasions, despite the basic flavour of the mix.

 

'So you've sat with him forever,' replied Ruth.

 

'It's a man's job to make a move. I'm no Jezebel. I'll be damned if he ever

calls me a Jezebel. I'm no floozie. I dance with the boys, but sit with the

major. If that's not a signal, I say to myself, then I'll persist. Aeons

have come, aeons have gone, and I've sat with the major. He must have the

dullest recognition of a woman's favour in the history of humanity, but I

persist. He'll get the point.'

 

'Say you are fond of him,' said Ruth.

 

'I'm not a harlot. I am the daughter of Daniel Daly, the angel Callodyn. I

shall keep my good name and wait for my sir to finally get the point.

Anyway, why all the questions? Has he said something?'

 

Ruth looked at her, and smiled a little to herself. 'He's finally queried

why you do actually sit with him, but dance with the boys, yet never marry

them. I informed him I was sure you were the family type. Content with a

comfortable uncle figure, but married to mum and dad in a sense.'

 

'Hardly. I, don't get me wrong. I love living at home. But when Henry gets

off his butt and becomes a man again and asks me out, he'll know just how I

feel about him.'

 

'I see,' said Ruth. 'Well. Well.'

 

'Well what?' asked Claudetta.

 

'Well the cog has moved over. You know, the actual IQ point they are

capable of. He's used it.'

 

'About time,' replied Claudetta.

 

'Indeed,' finished Ruth.

 

Chapter Three

 

'In the end, Henry, life goes on and God occasionally expands his kingdom

when a diehard comes along. The spiritual weight of a new kingdom is heavy.

We've only seen minors since Noahidism advented in the 21st century of the

common era calendar on earth. Nobody on earth in the physical universe, at

this time, wants to carry weight anymore. The world grew to countless

numbers once, and the scientists declared it was all atomic reactions and

things, and that it was natural. That it was part of the design of an

expanding univese. And they often predicted it would collapse in on itself,

as it did. For the world came back to its regular size. But the population

which would peak at about 7 billion under the strength of Moses, Jesus,

Mohammed and Bahaulla, permanently, grew to 12 Billion and Daniel won't

share with me the official growth after the foundational Chronicles of the

Children of Destiny was completed. Rebirth has more souls in its strength,

but the foundation chronicles, grand-father, departed the earth to the

heavenlies in time, and the strength of the new numbers largely came to

completion. His psychotic nature, his sheer bloody-mindedness, added

strength to the world. The Judgment Day purchased faith and prayers during

the millennium, which grew the world for a long time. But that strength

eventually departed, and the official scriptural writings took over once

more. And the world is currently at 12 Billion souls. But Rebirth has not

been spent. And I would have you know that. I'm a Rebirth project, dear

Henry. Grand-father has made it clear my offspring to my husband are part

of a new spirit within the world. There is much things which have been

spent on the new world beyond 12 Billion already established in the

spiritual universe, but one day in the future the new prophet will come

along on earth, the warrior of virtue proper or something similar, and

there will be new growth. Rebirth may be the groundwork in which he, or

potentially she, is born into. And that is why we have the four great

monotheisms of Torah, Gospel, Koran and Bahai. And that is why nothing

still yet has come forth.'

 

'I understand,' replied Henry, continuing with his pen to make notes in his

notebook. Claudetta stopped speaking as the Major wrote down ideas and

words. She went off to the bar, and returned with a glass of vodka, and

drank slowly, watching the Major write.

 

'Theology is a current thing, is it?' she asked him.

 

'Yes,' he replied, not looking up. 'I've been studying religion, primarily

monotheism, for a while now, and had some question you might actually be

able to answer about the inner mechanics of Noahidism.'

 

'Glad to help,' replied Claudetta, who gave him a rare look from the corner

of her eye, which he just noticed, before returning to his notes.

 

He finally asked the question.

 

'Are you fond of me, Claudetta?' He did not take his eyes of his notes.

 

Claudetta sipped on her vodka. 'I suppose,' she replied.

 

'Would you care to go on a drive next weekend. A nearby city, for a spot of

lawn bowls at a club I have friends with.'

 

'Sounds alright,' said Claudetta. She looked at the dance floor, and some

of the boys looking at her. 'I think I'll skip dancing, tonight, Henry.

Will you walk me home now?'

 

'Certainly,' replied the Major.

 

They walked home. Claudetta walked in front of Henry, going at a steady

pace. She did not say anything. He observed her every step.

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Ruth was doing the washing. Life was like that. Life was like washing

clothes. All throughout history the womenfolk, and the men at times, had

been down at streams and rivers, even lakes, at pools and in laundries, and

even kitchens, washing clothes, and having them dry out so that they could

be worn again. And Ruth felt that was an element of life, an element of

creation. Washing. It was a thing which was done naturally. Puritanicals

could get on their high horse at times and poo poo every damn cultural item

if they really wanted to, but all of them washed their clothes. Something

which was not really disputed about mankind. An element of life, she felt.

She put the clothes on the clothes line in the back yard, and came inside.

There was a knock at the door. She opened it, and Claudetta Daly stood

there.

 

'Come in,' said Ruth. They came to the kitchen, and Ruth made them coffee.

'How did it go?'

 

'Fine,' replied Claudetta. 'Do you mind if I smoke?'

 

'You don't smoke,' said Ruth.

 

'I started the other day. The Major offerred me one.'

 

'Go ahead,' replied Ruth. Claudetta lit a ciggie.

 

'I've already made a judgment. 2 or 3 a day at most. I just like them a

little, from the last few days of smoking,' said Claudetta.

 

'They can be addictive,' replied Ruth.

 

'Probably,' said Claudetta. 'Still, whatcha gonna do, huh?'

 

'The Major. What did you two get up to?'

 

'I watched him bowl. We had a meal. Standard conversation. He touched my

hand. Said he was fond of me.'

 

'It's his first next step,' said Ruth. 'Remember, he might be patient.'

 

'Tell me about it,' said Claudetta.

 

'Looking for another man?' asked Ruth.

 

'Never going to bother with another man. He appears to be inclined towards

me now. I am comfortable and happy with my choice. I shan't look elsewhere.'

 

'Then all is well,' said Ruth.

 

'All is well,' finished Claudetta.

 

Ruth watched television with Boaz that evening. She looked at her husband

at times, his frown at various news reports. She knew him well. Very well.

 

All was well, Ruth thought to herself. All was well.

 

The End

 

 

*Wormdrogan 4*

 

'Yo, Jayden,' said Wormdragon.

 

'What's the cherubim without a brain want,' replied Jayden Bridges.

 

'Theophofag suggested I scope some time wit me bro. Let's smoke some dope,'

said Wormdrogan.

 

'Sounds good,' replied Jayden.

 

They smoked some dope. They smoked some more dope. They smoked some more

dop some more. They were high.

 

'Would you do Elle Macpherson?' queried Wormdrogan.

 

'I'd do the bitch,' replied Jayden.

 

'Would you do Miranda Kerr?' queried Wormdrogan.

 

'I'd fuck her arse off,' replied Jayden.

 

'Would you do Humphrey the Bear?' queried Wormdrogan.

 

'He's one sodomized Teddy Bear,' replied Jayden.

 

'You got balls, man,' said Wormdrogan.

 

'Right here,' said Jayden,' putting his hand on his crotch.

 

Later on they were less high.

 

'What you up to these days, man?' asked Wormdrogan.

 

'Ah, you know. Farming life. Working with me old man. This and that.'

 

'Life in New Terra. Must be the shit, I guess. You should go realmlife,'

said Wormdrogan.

 

'Not my style,' replied Jayden, with a drawl.

 

'That sister of yours. She still single?'

 

'Maddy gets around a bit,' said Jayden. 'She likes the lads.'

 

'She like a bit of the wormmeister.'

 

'She might,' said Jayden. 'You might be her style. Can't really say. She

goes for losers I guess.'

 

'Funny,' said Wormdrogan.

 

'Hit her up if you wanna do her,' said Jayden. 'She probably won't mind.

She's the relaxed type. Be gentleman-like, and she'll talk to you.'

 

'Gotcha,' replied Wormdrogan.

 

Wormie hung around the farm a few weeks at Jaydos place, and they talked

shit. He helped with the haymaking a bit, and earned his keep. They paid

him $50 bucks at the end of the week for his labours.

 

'The rest is your bed and board,' said Jayden.

 

'You drive a hard bargain Bridges boy,' said Wormdrogan.

 

Jayden puffed on his ciggie. 'Tell me about it,' he finished.

 

The End

 

 

*God Made Me Special*

 

Now, class, repeat after me.  God made me special, just as I am.’

 

The Messiah Ministries kindergarten class all said in unison 'God made me

special, just as I am.’

 

Another affirmation.  ‘I am loved, in incredible ways,’ said the teacher.

 

The kids said ‘I am loved in incredible ways.’

 

And our final affirmation before we begin work for this day.  ‘David is our

King, and we love him so.’

 

David is our King, and we love him so,’ said the kids.

 

And class began.

 

Mrs Stern walked through the class as the children all did their artwork,

surveying what was going on.  Little Johnny, though, was a concern.  He had

drawn the black dragon again.

 

Why a black dragon?’ asked Mrs Stern to Jonnie.

 

Because they are evil,’ said Johnny.

 

Oh.  That’s ok.  Evil is good,’ said Mrs Stern.  ‘If you are into evil,

that is perfectly all right.  Remember, love conquers everything.  Love

loves evil too, Johnny.  You are perfectly normal.  Remember that.  You are

perfectly normal.’

 

Yes Mrs Stern,’ said Johnny.

 

The day passed and Mrs Stern wrote her daily report.  She got to Johnny.  

She wrote:

 

Shows talent at being an extraordinary misfit.  True great creativity lies

in his heart.  He is one to be cherished and loved.’

 

Messiah Ministries was truly, truly, infallible.

 

The End

 

 

 

*Keltarium V*

 

'Seven scholars took seven millennia to craft her,' said the antiques

dealer. 'She is the Britannica Conglomerica. She is brilliant.'

 

'What is she?' queried Keltarium.

 

'A cornucopia of the early editions,' said the Antiques dealer. 'The

knowledge and their commentary. It is the conglomeration of a Britannic

tree of knowledge. And exceedingly well done. This is one of the 7,000,000

first printings. 7 volumes as you can see. I treasure a copy I have at

home.'

 

'The price is steep,' said Keltarium.

 

His mistress, dressed in black and scarlett, their black and hispanic girl

slaves, in fine robes behind her, looked on. 'Purchase it, Keltarium. It is

something to learn.'

 

'It is 20th century a lot of it,' said Keltarium.

 

'It's the formal stuff,' said his mistress. 'That is correct, isn't it

dealer?'

 

He nodded. 'They were mostly still imbued with a decent Victorian spirit.

It is not really till Elizabeth the Second that too great a spirit of

modernity overtakes mankind, and the olde world ceases to become terribly

interested. The 20th century saw the true birth of electronology.

Electronology is the dividing barrier between the olde and the modern.

Futurism is being born in Elizabeth II's era, but still takes many

centuries before it really comes along. But this is the last of the formal

vestiges of our world. There are – things – done beyond this time. Works of

note here and there which still aspire to the kind of things which should

and need and are said and done. Works of various authors and

inspirationilists who had their head glued to more concrete aspects of the

human endeavour. But the vast majority was casual. Tis the way of things.'

 

'Couldn't agree more,' replied Keltarium. 'I'll take it. The money is

reasonable. I will have it forwarded to you soon enough.'

 

The antiques dealer nodded, and put the seven volumes back under his bench.

 

'Come girls,' said the mistress, clapping. 'We shall dine in the tavern

down the street.'

 

The girls, dutifully, followed. They obeyed their mistress implicitly these

days, having been strictly lectured for some time now. They were not,

exactly, their former selves. They still had a large degree of obstinancy,

but were accustomed to reasonable treatment, and more ladies in waiting and

servants than the slaves they had once been. Keltarium and his mistress had

seen to their education and that they were to be proper people. They had

gradually accepted that fact.

 

They ate in the tavern. The girls followed the decorum of dining they had

been drilled upon. They were a family – of sorts. Keltarium attracted

comments from the community. He was something of a father figure. He was

admired.

 

The End

 

 

 

*Uniford 2*

 

'It's a Ford,' said Daniel the Seraphim.

 

'I can see that,' replied Uniford, taking the keys.

 

'And here is the address,' said Daniel the Seraphim.

 

Uniford drove the car through the streets of the city. They arrived at the

address. 'Romnaphon City University,' said Uniford.

 

'Ok,' said Daniel. 'Let's get out.'

 

Uniford parked the Falcon, and got out in front of the car.

 

'We'll sit there,' said Daniel, pointing to a seat. They sat down. Two

girls walked by. 'Hey ladies,' said Daniel. 'Daniel the Seraphim and

Uniford the Cherubim. How's it going?'

 

The girls giggled. 'Keep on dreaming, dudes,' they said.

 

'That's Uniford's Ford,' said Daniel, pointing to the car.

 

'Hey, Its Uniford's Uniford,' said one of the girls.'

 

'Awesome,' said Daniel, who been filming the girls with his mobile. 'Hoped

for words something like that.'

 

Uniford turned and looked at Daniel. 'That was what this was about?'

 

Daniel started whistling.

 

'You were arranging a joke?' queried Uniford.

 

'Hey, did you see the Bulldogs game on the weekend,' said Daniel, changing

the subject.

 

'Unbelievable,' replied Uniford.

 

'The vid will be on my youtube account this evening,' said Daniel. 'Make

sure you tell your buddies.'

 

'You get off on shit like this, don't you,' said Uniford.

 

'So everyone tells me,' replied Daniel.

 

'Daniel's legendary sarcasm,' said Uniford.

 

'I keep the ball moving, bro,' said Daniel. 'Hey, if there are legal

complications, let me know. We'd sort it first. I don't cross into stuff

which is slander or libelous. I'm careful with that Uniford. Otherwise I

have a bit of fun at times. I mean, if you insist I don't put the video on

youtube, I will respect your wishes.'

 

'Not the point, really,' said Uniford. 'No, I don't mind. If that jizzles

your jazzle,' replied Uniford.

 

'Awesome,' said Daniel.

 

Uniford looked at Daniel, and just shook his head, laughing at the clown a

little. Daniel the Seraphim. Jesus, what a dude.

 

* * * * *

 

'That was a little bit funny. You got to admit it,' said Natalendriel. 'A

genuine moment from the girls. They must have been inspired.'

 

'Daniel did his best to fish for it,' said Uniford. 'Set up, but the result

was genuine from them. It's a little be funny Natalendriel.

 

'Well, get him back. Nicely, of course. But get him back,' said

Natalendriel.

 

Uniford looked at his twin. 'I'm hardly an expert on revenge.'

 

Got an idea,' said Natalendriel, and explained the plan to him.

 

A few weeks later Daniel was querying why they were visiting a beauty

parlour.

 

'Just got a friend there,' said Uniford.

 

They came inside, and Uniford started chatting to a lady. Another lady,

suddenly, poked Daniel and asked him if she could try out a new haircut on

him that she had designed, saying he had the perfect long hair to work

with. 'Uh, sure,' replied Daniel. The lady started cutting his hair, and

about half an hour later Daniel looked at the mess of badly cut hair, with

dyed bits of purple, green and pink.

 

'Do you like?' asked the lady. 'I think it's really unique,' she said in

the european accent she had.

 

'Yeh. Yeh, it's great.'

 

'Oh, that's unique,' said Uniford. 'Very – different. Can I get a picture?'

 

'If you must,' said Daniel dryly. Uniford took the picture.

 

'I'll put this in my friends list of pics on facebook,' said Uniford. 'Me

and Danel on a day out. Should bring a few comments.'

 

'Wonderful,' said Daniel.

 

Daniel looked at the photo on facebook that evening. It had the caption

'Revenge is Sweet' written on it. He knew he'd been set up then. Touche

Uniford. Still, if gave it out you should be able to take it. He'd be more

cautious in the future. But he smiled anyway, and as he shaved off his hair

that evening, he thought, maybe he'd get Uniford back. Maybe. But looking

at the hair in the bathroom wastebin he decided he'd learned his lesson.

Still, it was only a facebook photo. Daniel made cashola off his Uniford

video on youtube. And if that was the last laugh, then he had it. Ha

Uniford. Shaved head the only price to pay. So, thinking that to cheer him

up, he had a late night whisky, unaware all the time of the montage of his

hair headshot being put to music, ready to go on youtube later that night

by an amused Uniford. Ironic justice indeed.

 

The End

 

 

 

*The New Districts of Zaphora II*

 

'Well this is the fifth process,' said Saruviel to the theophany. 'And

Zaphora has not been expanded again, as promised. I'd assumed it might

happen each process.'

 

'There is a final expansion. A third and final one due,' said the Theophany.

 

'When is it due?' queried Saruviel.

 

The theophany looked at his son. They were in Kalphon Keep. 'Oh, well.

Today is as good a day as any, I suppose.'

 

'Right,' said Saruviel. 'Today? You're serious.'

 

'It's about due now,' replied God. 'Come on then. We'll book a flight to

Zaphon.'

 

They left the overseer office, took a taxi to the airport, and 50 minutes

later were in Zaphon. They took the elevator to an upper tower, and God and

Saruviel looked out. They could see all of Zaphora from where they were.

 

'Probably won't say this again,' said the Theophany. He spread out his

hands. 'Let there be land.'

 

Saruviel watched, and a similar thing happened like the first time he'd

witnessed it. Land started forming, and the realm expanded in each disc

further out, something they couldn't see from there, but God let him know

it was happening.

 

'That's the final disc expansion project,' said God. 'There are just

ongoing new disc segmentations now.'

 

'Right,' said Saruviel. 'Will have to talk with the current overseer. See

into the new district names.'

 

'About 70 new districts this time is my suggestion,' said God. 'But I'll

leave it to you guys. I would expect about the same approximate ratio to

land as has been done previously.'