Chronicles of the 
Children of Destiny 
Morning Stars of Glory 
by 
Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly 
Copyright 6179 SC 

Haven Noahide Fellowship 
Morning Stars of Glory: Semyaza 
Morning Stars of Glory: Daniel 
Lord Chronology and the 700 Time Masters XX 
Vampires, Vampires and More Fucking Vampires 
Morning Stars of Glory: Jesus 
The Christ of God's Greater Glory 
Gabriel 5 
Christmas with the Daly’s 
The Queen of HNF 
Morning Stars of Glory: Callodyn 
Morning Stars of Glory: David 
Morning Stars: Cyril 
4 O’Clock 
Abrazabrandelionkonjonshonvantrantavere II 
The Golden Dragon 
The Facts of Life 
Michael: Dungeons and Dragons 
Ambriel: Supercop 
David 
Jesus 
The Tour de France 
Jesus II 
Zelzazon and the Death of an Ancient Evil 
The Solstice Tree 
The Facts of Life 2 
Ambriel's Day Off 
Michael 2 
Ambriel and the Amazing Fiona MacIntosh 
Fiona MacIntosh and the Time of her Life 


Haven Noahide Fellowship 

'Through integrating Haven with 7DF and its world, we have unity. For the Canon of Haven Noahide Fellowship, the time of our meaning, is now,' said Callodyn. 'And begins now and ends with the end of the world,' he said dramatically. 'But the whole united 7DF Canon of life is what has come before us.' 
'And the canon of Assembly of the Divine Creator?' queried Daniel. 
'What shall be,' said Callodyn, in prophetic vision of the future. And so on for each of the 7 Fellowship, till a time when the canon of the whole 7DF returns, beyond the Children of Men. For our life is Torah – Noahide Torah – and the histories we compile, dear brother, are the living legacy of our congreations.' 
'Huh?' asked Daniel. 
'Go ask Lord Chronology,' said Callodyn, and poured himself yet another apple cider for the afternoon. 

And, in fact, Haven got going. The fellowship really started making inroads in the age long war for religious truth, and the beginning of the Haven era, in many ways, truly did begin. Truly did begin. 
The End 

Morning Stars of Glory: Semyaza 
'I think I will decapitate Papa Smurf,' said Semyaza. 
Sharakondra looked at him. 'If there is one thing you need to decapitate, its your ego. You are prouder than Jesus Christ, you idiot. I do recall those fallen years, down in the pit. I was watching you, you know, from heaven. Through one of the official portals. Down there, suffering, never caring. Blaspheming God regularly. Now Daniel, he had a brain. In there with you bugger all time, recants of his oath to commit to your deeds, prays to God, asks him for mercy, pledges to learn the rules again properly, actually does, and he makes him a prophet of Israel. That one got over his ego. But you? And will it end with Papa Smurf. Will smurfette be next?' 
'Nah. Not Smurfette. That Brainy Smurf Nerd. Thinks he knows everything. I'll teach him a lesson.' 
'Unbelievable,' said Sharakondra. Freshly installed as overseer of eternity, and he wants to decapitate Papa Smurf. What an inspiring leader. Why I bother with you is beyond me.' 
'You enjoy my masculine charms,' he said, scratching his crotch. 
She looked at him scratch his crotch, lift himself up from his seat a little, fart, and then reach for his beer. 
'Yes, masculine charms,' she said. 'You know, do you even know what a suit is?' 
He looked at her in unbelief. 'You are blaspheming the good name of Semyaza with the male cherubim community. I would be excommunicated from every bar in the Realm if I showed up with a suit. It is not the done thing.' 
'Ooh. Suddenly the expert of the done thing. Pity you don't know about lovemaking.' 
'What? You after a scratch up?' he asked her. 
She looked at him, and batted her eyelids. 'I wouldn't mind actually.' 
He stood, and staggered a bit. 'Errr. I feel sick.' And he vomited, it coming down on her feet as she instantly jumped out of the way. 
'Ah, God,' said Sharakondra. 'I married Satan.' 
'Aw, fuck, I feel better now,' said Semyaza. 'Glad that shits out of me. We still on for the love pad babe?' 
'You are revolting. I think I need detox to get your stench off me.' And she left, went off to shower, and to think more purer thoughts than the abomination of Semyaza with his grubby hands all over her. 
'Oh, yes your high and mighty,' he said, as she walked out the room. 'Mmm. I could use another beer,' he said, scratching his butt, and wandered off to the kitchen to open a fresh sixpack. 
The End 

Morning Stars of Glory: Daniel 
'Belteshazzar. You are a noble prophet,' said Nebuchadnezzar. 'Tell me my dream. What does it mean? I was in a garden of Babylon, and seven virgins came up to me and made passionate love with me. What does that mean?' 
'Pregnancies, venereal diseases, shotgun weddings, bastard children and a whole lot of nappies and baby food,' replied the Cherubim Daniel, Belteshazzar himself, Daniel the Prophet of Israel. 
Nebuchadnezzar gave him one of those 'I am the King of Babylon – and I am NOT amused looks. Daniel still chuckled softly though. 
'Now that you are overseer of your glorious Realm of Eternity, what shall thine holy undertakings consist of?' asked the King. 
'Business as usual,' replied Daniel. 'Honouring the protocols of Michael and keeping the peace as best I can. A quiet reign were people can get on with their own lives. They don't need an interfering Overseer to absorb every moment of their attention.' 
'You remain a truly humble soul,' replied the King. 
They were in Babylon, on New Terra, the official residence of King Nebuchadnezzar, who was of the Palace of Kings of Babylon. Daniel oft visited, for he was well known to the King through long association. 
'I am an old King now,' said Nebuchadnezzar. 'And the Lord has been good to me. But I beseech the a prayer request. Wilt though pray 1000 times for me? For a request I have?' 
'Speak oh King of Kings,' replied Daniel. 
'May the Lord grant me wisdom to rule, kindness in speech, and thoughtfulness in action. For I desire to strengthen these qualities in my soul.' 
'I shall pray the Scriptures upon thee. Many selections for thine beneficience, oh King.' 
'You are kind,' said King Nebuchadnezzar, as they continued to stroll through the garden. 'Your current wife. Your soulmate twin. Nadiel. Is she in good health?' asked the King. 
'She is in good health. And sends warm wishes of happiness from the realm,' replied Daniel. 
'Then all is good,' said the King. 'All is good.' 
Later on Daniel sat in his room in the Palace, looking through a book on Babylonian customs, a book he had long had, and thought on the King. He had known him forever, and Nebuchadnezzar had gradually come closer to the Lord over many lifetimes. Yet he was still learning and seeking the Lords favour. It seemed a walk with God was never complete till it was complete. And if that ever occurred to Daniel? Well, well he would have something to write home about. 
The End 



Lord Chronology and the 700 Time Masters XX 

Apholox sat at the cafeteria of Timehaven, drinking tea and scratching his head. His mind was going over several possibilities to a current dilemma. Rachel Smith had pledged her undying love for Callodyn Bradlock, whereas Rachel Rothchild had now fallen in love with a Jewish man on Televon and signed a 20 Million year marriage contract. This could present difficulties in the list of divine Time/Harmony mandates presented to them by Yahweh. Romantic continuity between the parallel personages was a prime commandment of the Time/Harmony mandates, and Rachel Smith connecting to Callodyn with Rachel Rothchild connecting to another was really creating havoc in the mind of Apholox. 
‘What in the heavenlies am I going to do?’ he fretted. 

Zabradoss, one of his compatriot Time Masters, sitting opposite him, sipped his tea in quiet simplicity, smiling at Apholox, awaiting is usual request for some advice. 
‘I’m buggered, Zabby.’ 
‘Be careful about your profanity. Don’t let Lord Chronology here you.’ 
‘Well I will be well and truly buggered if these romances go their separate ways for too long. Do you know how out of harmony the events could cause their respective worlds to become? So much so that the grand conclusion of Climactic Harmony may indeed be threatened.’ 
‘Oh, you are always fretting over Climactic Harmony. I think you are exaggerating that too much. You’ll solve your dilemma. You always do.’ 
‘Yet persuading the spirit of destiny to accommodate my suggestions may not be that easy.’ 
‘Well, you will think of something. Perhaps, as strange as it may sound, the last resort?’ 
‘Which is?’ queried Apholox. 
‘A short prayer of concern – to him.’ 
‘Oooohhh. I could do that. But I better not let LC catch me doing it. You know how he fusses over our own solutions to our enigmas. ‘Don’t go bothering God with your problems,’ he always says. ‘He has enough on his plate already.’ 
‘Then be private about it.’ 
‘Yes, well maybe. I’ll think about it. Anyway, who is winning the cricket?’ 
‘England, I think. It will be close this series, but the poms will take them. I have confidence.’ 
‘Would you fancy to make a wager?’ 
‘Uh, no. They often bite you in the bum. We’ll just wait and see.’ 
‘Mmmm,’ nodded Apholox, returning to his Earl Grey Tea. 

The End 



Vampires, Vampires and more Fucking Vampires 

‘Hey, Vampires are popular. Write about vampires Bruce.’ 
‘Shut the fuck up.’ 
‘Come on, Brucey boy. Write some Vampire stories.’ 
‘You want a Vampire story? Ok, here’s a vampire story. There was this vampire, and it bit your head off. Now shut the fuck up, I’m depressed.’ 
‘I’m sure a good Vampire story will cheer you up. Nothing like a shot of fresh blood.’ 
‘Get stuffed.’ 
‘You know, all the girls dig those Goth guys. They are the in thing. Get with the times.’ 
‘Mmm. Vampires, huh?’ thought Bruce Magee to himself. 


Several weeks later Bruce had composed a second rate pulp fiction Vampire comedy. The main character went around insulting people and sucking their blood. He approached a publisher. They said it was total crap. Four days later they agreed to publish. 

It went to number 7 on the charts, with all the craze, and Bruce said ‘Well fuck a duck.’ 


The moral too this story is to get rich be culture current, Kemosabe. 

The End 

Morning Stars of Glory: Jesus 
'You know, this executive key represents a lot,' said Jesus. 
'Comfortable ablutions,' suggested Apostle Peter. 
'That too,' replied Jesus. 'But more than that. It is a symbol of life in many ways.' 
'We deal with a lot of shit,' suggested Apostle Peter. 
Jesus gave him one of those looks. 
'As I was saying,' continued Jesus, his eye on Peter, 'It is a symbol of life. When we have served forever, and earned our true glory, glory comes to us.' 
'Divine crapping,' said Peter, grinning. 
'I'll divine crap you if you are not careful,' replied Jesus. Peter chuckled. 
'Now, what was I saying? Oh, never mind. Well, now here we are, and the Christ of God's greater glory has his mission plan set.' 
'The great commission?' asked Peter. 
'More than that. The great glory. The time when the world will finally accept the authority of Jesus Christ. I sense Israel is ready to serve, and acknowledge the truth.' 
'Mostly business as usual from my observations,' said Peter. 'A smattering of conversions, but not much else. No real change.' 
'Then we will have to do something about that,' replied the Cherubim. 'For the world will know the power of the divine word to bring life, truth and healing. And the power of love shall shine like never before.' 
'Yes Lord,' replied Peter. 'What are your plans?' 
'A media campaign. We will take this opportunity to preach the word, to proclaim the gospel, and to further the agenda of the Church.' 
'And this is ethical use of the overseers authority?' asked Peter. 
Jesus looked at his number one. 'Poppycott and nonsense. I'm in charge. I'll do as I damn well please.' 
'Yes Lord,' replied Peter. 
'So get your popes on notice. They'll be busy soon enough.' 
'Yes Lord.' 
'Times are a changing,' said the Christ of God's Greater Glory. 'Times are a changing.' 
The End 

The Christ of God's Greater Glory 
The Purposes of God are shattered by egos which surface – egos beyond the power of humility. Yet, in Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ Child of Glory in his own imaginations, perhaps a strange beast of humble pride has risen its ugly head, perhaps a beast which has the strength, mind and purpose of the eternal within. The strength and mind to challenge all and sundry who would dare the wrath of the carpenter from Nazareth. 
There is so much which can be said, and so much which should be said, and so much which has been said. Yet God thought on Jesus – and his own love for the son of Joseph and Mary – and a new destiny, a new plan, a new joy entered the heart of the Creator and he, once more, began work on that tapestry of life, love and other mysteries for which he was all to well known and loved for. 
* * * * * 
‘Amy Grant. You’re a Christian aren’t you?’ 
Amy smiled. ‘Why, yes dear friend.’ 
‘So you love Jesus? The Angel of God.’ 
She nodded. She was used to such inquiries. 
‘Do your CDs sell well? I bought one yesterday. Age to Age. I love it. And my dad gave me one last week, with the song Jehovah on it. It was beautiful.’ 
‘Thank you,’ responded Amy. 
‘You know,’ continued the young woman. ‘Saruviel is a big fan of your work. I saw it on his website. He lists your albums as his favourite Christian albums. Strange, isn’t it? The Antichrist of Christianity is the biggest Christian of them all. Strange, huh?’ 
‘I hope you enjoy the music,’ said Amy, and turned away from the woman, returning to her shopping. 
‘Saruviel,’ she gasped to herself. ‘Always bloody Saruviel. The questions never end about that for Amy G. Never, ever, ever, so it seemed.’ 
* * * * * 
Michael W Smith, songman supreme, perhaps the biggest name in Christian music, looked at the picture. It was a poster of himself and one of his rare meetings with Alexander Darvanius – the dread Lord Saruviel. It was not that Michael didn’t enjoy Saruviel’s company – it was not that at all. But the firstborn of the Seraphim of Infinity, the fourth group of seven angels, had long disavowed a commitment to the idealism of Saruviel in his attempt to have united Christian faith into one solid movement. That was not reality, as Michael saw it. Christian unity was not about ever single church with one connecting doctrine. That was chaos and neverending debate. As strange as it may sound to some, divided they stood, united they fell. And with a book as complex in the interpretive possibilities as the New Testament in fact was, nothing else could be closer to the truth. 
The young man, handing him a black marker, eager for Michael to sign the poster, claiming that he would one day get Saruviel’s signature if he could, smiled, signed it anyway, and continued on with his days signing activities at the re-release of one of his albums, in a Christian bookstore, somewhere in eternity. 

* * * * * 

Pope John Paul the Second was, in spirit, quite a holy man. He lived on the grounds of the Vatican in the Realm of Eternity in the papal community alongside a number of the other earlier foundational popes, had a regular routine of masses, prayers, and other appointments, and, for the most part, was happy enough with his Lord Jesus Christ and the visits he occasionally received from him, visits he had eagerly anticipated in his early years as one of the premiere popes of the 20th and 21st centuries on earth. 
But looking at the picture of himself with Alexander Darvanius, which was an attachment in an email sent to him by a fan of his sermons and books, he almost shuddered at the spiritual memories which rose when one was confronted with the supreme power of the 7th Archangel of God’s glory of the Realm of Eternity. At least for a devoted man of Christian faith anyway. 
But, in God the Father’s grace, all God’s children were important to him, and even the fallen angel Saruviel should be shown the love of God, as difficult as it may seem to grant him, given his great and terrible reputation. 

* * * * * 

Meludiel was the twin of the Messiah, David Rothchild – the Seraphim Angel Ambriel – and she was also a Christian for the most part, a famous Christian Singer with many albums under her human name of Rebecca Smallbone, and a loving and caring child of God. And then there was Saruviel, her older brother. 
Those days, long ago, when Saruviel had come to prominence, and the end of days had arisen, and judgement had been executed – literally – by the sword of Samael – were a fundamental lesson in the heart of Meludiel, the angel of God. Of course, as Meludiel, she loved Saruviel dearly and while the Revelation seemed to never really go away, still a happy and content part of most Christian canon’s, she felt that any suffering which Saruviel may have had to endure because of the book had well and truly been meted out by now and the plans of her heavenly father – plans perhaps made at the dawn of time – had been measured out, in full, and Saruviel now deserved as much grace, loyalty and love as any child of God merited and deserved. And, besides, she was fond of Alexander. He had a lot of Christian virtue in him. 
But, looking at the picture of herself and Saruviel, one in her album sprayed with Eternya coating, she was reminiscent of their long relationship as brother and sister, and just then prayed a silent prayer that, in the time about to advent – the time which the Christian church had waited aeons of ages for – the advent of Jesus as Overseer of the Realm of Eternity – that figures such as Saruviel would be borne no particular hostility or demeanement as the Christ of the Christian Church took centre stage. For she did love Alexander, despite his overwhelming personality. 

* * * * * 

‘Go Sylvestor. Kick his ass.’ 
Sylvestor Stallone, buoyed by a member of the crowd encouraging him, continued on. He was boxing for his life – boxing for his glory – and he would not stop until he had achieved his goal, and shown himself a man before his Lord and Saviour. 
‘Eye of the Tiger, Rocko,’ one bloke yelled, and Sylvestor, suddenly encouraged, moved in, hit with his rock like fists, and the bloke pummelled over to the ground, looked up, and threw his fists in the air in defeat, his manager then throwing in the towel. 
‘The bloke in the crowd yelled ‘Rocko’ again, and Sly was happy. Another victory. His ancient spirit had awoken – he was now becoming himself. Now becoming the champion within. Now becoming the man he was capable of. Destiny awaited, and he would not stop until his objectives were achieved. He prayed a silent prayer of thanks to God, returned to his corner, and sat there, feeling the effects of the fight, but not caring. One more down – a mountain load of competitors to come. 

* * * * * 

Luladiel – Katy Perry – the 30th born female Seraphim Angel of the Realm of Eternity, loved Jesus Christ. He was her lord, and she would remain faithful forever. Sure, she knew the Torah, but her Christian faith was not based on the right religion – that had been forsaken a long time ago, as Callodyn had won her heart in that sense to the truths of her Noahide heritage, which Daniel also affirmed. But faith in Christ, for her, was in his love – and nothing more. And while she loved David Rothchild deeply and eternally so, Jesus was the centre, and that couldn’t really change anymore. Her generations had been like that – some things never really changed, either way. 
Glory was coming, Luladiel knew this, for those who had long suffered the name of Jesus Christ. The theophany had completely confirmed that it would be a time of Christian celebration, and that New Testament principles would be permitted to have a degree of the rule of law, as it were, for the time of Jesus tenure as overseer of eternity. He to, as a child of God, deserved his say, and Christianity and its legacy would be properly observed and celebrated for its time. The theophany had further announced he would be attending mass and other Christian church assemblies for the entire Arc on a very regular basis, and be giving Jesus much of his time. Of all things, the Christian virtues of Grace and Mercy were to be observed by God at this time, and Jesus was over the moon because of it. Even Maimonides, of all people, was said to be happy to attend Midnight mass for the period, as he too was happy enough with the graces of God. 
Yes, Glory was coming, in more ways than one, and it was a high time for the Christian church, almost on the eve of Christmas itself, and nothing, nothing at all, could bring down the celebrations of Jesus glory years. In fact, there was one individual in particular, who had long worried about Jesus of Nazareth, who was ready to show the humility of heart for which he had never really been known, but which he would grace Jesus and his church with for a times, and embrace, so he hoped, the spirits of forgiveness and love. 

* * * * * 

Avril was a happy girl. And Avril was a sad girl. Avril was an angel. And Avril was a devil. And Avril Lavigne was, in the end, plain old Avril. And she was used to that. 
She had a bestie – Evan Taubenfeld – who stuck with her through thick and thin, and the band toured forever because of it. She was, she found out much, much later, an angel of God. Not until well into her return to heaven did memories start surfacing of ancient days, and she found her name as 1,369,478 on the list of the Cherubim Angels of Eternity, the 669,478th female Cherubim on the list, somewere near the back end of them all funnily enough. But no matter – it was not such a position which was important – it was what you did with it. 
Avril was sort of a Christian – sort of. But, in the end, perhaps a bit too rebellious to espouse complete faith in Christian unity. More of, in reality, a general human being, which had become the Noahide faith in its focus, ultimately, the Rainbow Torah itself being the little black book, as she called it, to remind herself every aeon or so when she picked it up, not to mess around with people too much. Callodyn the Cherubim had imparted it to her – and they had married for quite a while. And then she had drifted off to his brother, who looked very similar, Daniel the Seraphim, and she had enjoyed his company for a while as well. They had been the ones who had said Avril was their kind of girl, in reality, and that she needed to learn about Noahide liberties but, also, in the end, Noahide rules. Rules which, in their own words, governed her eternal life and destiny. As simple as that, especially with Callodyn. 
And so she had become a Noahide, but still embraced Christian faith somewhat. 
Yet, soon, Christianity would be on everyone’s lips, as everyone knew all to well the dispensation of Grace which Jesus had request of God, and a dispensation which was to be granted. It would be a lot easier time, a time to relax on strictness of rules and way of life, a time to be oneself totally, and a time to celebrate Christ and the Cross, even for Jewish elders, who did not object to a small portion of eternity being devoted to time for even Jesus of Nazareth. 
Avril would be cautiously Christian for a while, and go along in the spirit of grace and the flow. But destiny had its hand on Avril Lavigne at this time and perhaps now, in the next million years or so, she would draw even closer to her Noahide faith, and find that the rock and consolation which she might not have otherwise have expected in what would become quite a hurly burly and tumultuous of times and experiences. A time she would never, ever, quite forget. 

* * * * * 

‘Yep, I’m a Christian.’ 
‘Fuck off, Daniel,’ said Jesus of Nazareth to Daniel the Seraphim’s bold statement. 
‘Yep, I love you, Yeshy Weshy. You are simply amazing.’ 
Nadiel almost puked up the eggnog, Ariel smiled, Ambriel grinned a little, and Meludiel just shook her head in typical amazement of the gall of Daniel Daly. Sharlamane, though, the level head in the group, came and patted Jesus on the back. ‘Yep, Lion of Judah, you have another devoted convert. Well done.’ 
Jesus swore much of the night at the worst display of hypocrisy EVER from Daniel, on Christmas Eve, the night before the big one, in the final year of Dreznadoranta’s Glory. 
Later on, just before midnight, Jesus had calmed down, and when the clock chimed twelve, Daniel handed his present to him. Jesus opened it, and almost choked. ‘Is this what I think it is, Danny?’ 
‘Yep, bro. A copy of Morning Stars. The first printing ever. Covered in Eternya spray. You know, bro, there were only 100 copies ever made. In fact, it says so on the inside cover. These days it is worth an astonishing amount of money, ok. I’m sure you will enjoy. Its yours forever.’ 
Jesus almost blushed, and hugged his brother. They were, now, despite his cussing, the best of friends. It was glory days ahead for Jesus of Nazareth, and life would never be the same again – literally. 

* * * * * 

David Rothchild looked up at the banner. ‘The Christ of God’s Greater Glory’. 
‘Sure,’ said David to himself. ‘The Christ of God’s GREATER Glory, huh. His GREATER glory.’ 
The banner, parcelled to the wall of the office, made no reply. How could it. It was only a banner. 
David sat there, at his desk, thinking about typing away, but not really concerned. At the moment, three weeks into the glorious coming of Jesus of Nazareth as overseer of eternity, David was still locked away, as he had been for the last 3 months, in a new, very minor position, on a disc way out there in eternity, hidden away from all and sundry, not prepared to show his head much for the next million years, waiting till all this Christian hoo hah died down. But, so he could well foresee, there would be Christmas parties galore coming up, an endless array of chocolate eggs each Easter, and Christians of well known and well established fame and glory, coming out of the woodwork – literally – all in praise and devotion of the blessed Christ Child of Mary and Joseph. Aye Carumba, is all David could think of it all. So, he took himself, off to a new job, as basic as possible, just to earn a buck and pay for his rental, prepared to do sweet SFA as they put it for the next million years, ready to raise his head again once the glory of the saviour had finally had its day. 
And so he sat there, typing away a little, but secretly playing minesweeper half the day in his ASO2 public service position, not giving much of a damn about the backlog of finance invoices, killing time, looking forward to the pizza he would be ordering that night. But what the hell, that was life. It didn’t always go your way forever in the end, anyway, did it. 

* * * * * 

The Dread Lord Saruviel picked up the joke book, started reading, and smiled. Being a comedian – a funny guy – was not exactly the role of glory he had planned for himself at the beginning of his days, but there was a time for everything, or so they say. The first year of Jesus’ glory had come and gone, and it had been a heck of a rush, but Saruviel was not yet really started on his ambitions for this time. Above everything else he really needed to impart to others that, despite opinions to the contrary, he really did have a sense of humour. 
He tried a joke. ‘What do you call a nun who sleepwalks? A Roaming Catholic.’ he looked in the mirror. No laughter from his image. ‘Sheesh, you’re a tough crowd he said to himself. He looked at the book, turned to the section marked ‘Dirty Girl’s Jokes’ and tried another one. ‘Why is sex like playing Bridge? If you don’t have a good partner you’d better have a good hand.’ He looked at his reflection. It was smiling. ‘Ahh, smut,’ he thought to himself. The salvation of the comedian in need of a career boost. He tried another one. ‘Why do women prefer a circumcised penis? Because anything with 10% off is always attractive.’ He looked at his reflection, it was still smiling, but not yet laughing hard. He needed a killer joke. He looked through the book, read one which really caught his attention, and tried it on. ‘What’s the difference between a penis and a redundancy cheque? It’s always fun to blow a man’s redundancy cheque.’ He looked at his reflection. It was giggling. ‘One more,’ he thought to himself. ‘When a man talks dirty to a woman its sexual harassment. When a woman talks dirty to a man its $7.50 a minute.’ He looked at his reflection. It was genuinely laughing. ‘Bingo’, he thought to himself. ‘We’ll see how we go.’ 

The End 

Gabriel 5 

Gabriel sat in the lounge keep of Kalphon keep, looking at Kantriel’s move. The current chess game between the two of them was 17 million years old. A very, very, very old game. It had been put on hold by both parties many times, but the ancient marble set still sat there, unaged it seemed, radiating out the wisdom of the white Gabriel and the black Kantriel for all to see. 

Gabriel occasionally visited Home to challenge either Metatron or the Theophany to a game of chess. It was not always easy getting permission, as everyone wanted to visit home, but in his senior rank in eternity he managed it far more often then some who had never even visited. 

Gabriel visited Kalphon from time to time, as it was not that far from his home in Terraphora. Saruviel spent most of his time in either Kalphon keep our out in the disc of Kalphora, the seventh disc of the Realm of Eternity, which was his overseersmanship’s domain, alongside over the district of Kalphora on the second disc of Terraphora. 

Those arrangements had been made long ago, for the head Seraphim to gain the rulership over their successive discs. Those discs now extended well into the Cherubim communities domains of authority and the Realm of Eternity really was just that – Eternal in most practical ways. 

Naturally, there were vast untamed regions, many unexplored, but gradually it was all being civilized and empire was being built. It was ongoing work. It was eternal work. But it was their life, and such things pleased Gabriel a great deal. 

Up above, the Realm of Infinity was following on in a similar manner to the Realm of Eternity. The discs were likewise expanded, yet from each of the cities of both Azaphon, Nadrazon and the others. There were more outer discs of the Realm of Eternity outwards, but the Realm of Infinity matched it in total numbers of discs, these discs simply being on differing levels. Paradise, Splendour and the other Realms also had their ways of expanding, and the planetary bodies of humanity never stopped coming. But that was life, supposed Gabriel, and the wisdom and planning of God. 

He looked at the chess set and, finally happy with his move, which he had contemplated for aeons, he moved the rook upwards. ‘We’ll see how Kantriel handles that,’ he said to himself, and looking over the board, satisfied, headed off to the cafeteria and his dinner. 

The End 



Christmas with the Daly’s 

‘Daniel? Are you listening to me?’ Kayella looked cautiously at her twin who, despite putting on his best, seemed duly and appropriately quite inebriated. 
‘Itsh Chrishmash Kay. Don’t wurry about it.’ 
‘So that is your excuse to get wasted?’ she asked, smiling at his slurred voice. 
‘Daddy doesn’t mind.’ 
‘I hardly think your father Cyril would approve of such behaviour. He is a most respectable man after all.’ 
‘Yesh. Hess resppeeccttable. Heh heh. Respeeccttable.’ 
‘You sound like Homer Simpson drunk.’ 
‘Resppeccttablle,’ repeated Daniel, in his best impersonation of Homer. 

‘Fuck off Matt. It’s my bloody turn.’ Jayden was arguing furiously over whose turn it was on Zelda on the Nintendo machine. Georgia had screamed blue murder at Jayden pinching the console from her and gone off to winge to Mary, who was staying out of the situation, enjoying her conversation with Trish. 
‘Bullshit Jayden. You have played 3 lives already.’ 
‘That’s a lie!’ exclaimed Jayden. 
‘No you’re lying,’ said Matthew. 
‘You are.’ 
‘You are.’ 
‘You’re both lying,’ said Madalene. ‘Anyway, its my turn.’ 

Daniel interrupted them. ‘Givv Kayie a go. Shessh good at Zelda.’ 
Madalene laughed at Daniel’s slurred speech. Kayella grabbed the control stick from Matt’s hand, who looked mightily pissed off, but didn’t say anything. Madalene came and sat next to Kayella, explaining the rather complex rules for Ultra Zelda Quest 47. 

Cyril, who had come into the room with the winging Georgia pointing at the guilty parties of Jayden and Matthew, tried to persuade Kayella gently to let Georgia have one last turn, to which Kayella graciously acceded. 

Out the front David and Dallas were steadily consuming their slab of Tooheys, with Barry also in a slightly intoxicated state. The Bridges men enjoyed their Tooheys and Jesus, who was discussing with Barry the complexities of certain Catholic rituals, was quite amused by the very Australian men. 

Later on, as they all sat around the dinner tables, Mary said a prayer of Grace to God, and invited Jesus to cut the turkey. And they all sang a song of ‘Merry Little Christmas’ and began their meal. 

When the games had resumed Kayella was finally given a turn and, funnily enough, proved to be the most successful of the group, finishing the difficult second level. 
‘I thinkksh sheesh played it before,’ said Daniel. ‘She duznt tell me half the thinggssh she does.’ 

Madalene was enjoying watching Kayella play, and as the rollerblading section came on Kayella glided through the first section with the experience of a pro. 
‘You have played this before, haven’t you?’ Madalene asked Kayella. 
‘Pretty much,’ responded Kay. 

As the afternoon progressed the Bridges boys continued to get drunk and Adam and Denise finally showed up with their mother Gloria. They helped themselves to the substantial leftovers and the house was starting to fill up quite a bit. 

At 6 Jesus went out to a bedroom and soon returned in a Santa costume with a big sack of presents. 

He handed them out one by one, and nobody missed out. Daniel enjoyed his rolex watch and put it on his wrist, saying it fitted well. Matthew was surprised at the rarity of the coins he had been given, and Cyril truly appreciated the rare King James Bible. 

But it was Mary who was most appreciative of a personal card with a four stanza poem written by Jesus just for her. She read it to everyone, and they all clapped Jesus original wit. 

Most of them stayed over for the night, and the following day Daniel was feeling hungover, but not too bad. He found some of the expensive chocolates his mother had bought for everyone and sitting in front of the lounge television, watching the morning cartoons, Jesus ventured in and sat down next to him to watch the X-Men. 

‘You have a good family, Daniel. They really are quite friendly and welcoming.’ 
‘Christmas has been a good time for us for a long time, Yesh. For a really long time. I think God blesses us on this day and keeps a good spirit. And I always enjoy celebrating the holiday this time of year. It is a time to unwind and reflect over a long year, and to put your feet up and chill out.’ 
‘And the meaning of Christmas,’ inquired Jesus. 
‘A lot has been said about that. But I try to keep it as simple as a time of good cheer and good will towards men. And a time to thank God for all the blessings in life.’ 
Looking at the TV Jesus said, ‘Well I don’t think I could ask for anymore than that.’ 
‘Amen brother.’ 

The End 


The Queen of HNF 

'You are the Queen of Haven Noahide Fellowship,' said the Cherubim Guy to his twin Madonna. 
'Go to hell, Guy,' responded the Divine Miss M. 
'Charmed,' responded Guy. 
She looked at Daniel the Seraphim. 'Am I, Danny?' 
Daniel looked down glumly at his apple cider. 'Sure. Whatever. Someone bloody has to be. Ariel sure as hell ain't interested in the job.' 
'Sure,' said Callodyn the Cherubim. 'You've got the job Madsy.' 
She kissed Callodyn on the cheek in response. 
'Queen of HNF. HA!' she gloated to her twin. 'More than you ever did for me.' 
'I gave you little Rocco,' responded Guy defensively. 
'And it amazes me you had the balls to do so,' responded the new Queen. 
Guy shrugged it off and grinned at her. 
'What do I get?' she asked Callodyn, suddenly eager. 
'A ton of paperwork,' smirked Daniel the Seraphim. 
'Trite TV promotionals,' put in Callodyn. 
'And a pretty shitty congregation,' finished Daniel. 
'Sign me up,' replied the earnest Diva. 
'What a fool believes,' said Daniel the Seraphim. 
'Hey, we should have 6 more,' suggested Callodyn. 
'For each of the 7DF?' queried Daniel. 
'We'll sign up the Spice Girls,' said Callodyn confidently. 
'Bastards!' exclaimed Madonna. 
'Little Georgie likes HAF,' suggested Daniel. 
'She'll do,' replied Callodyn. 'Oh, and we'll call them Kayella as a 7 pack.' 
'Now where have I heard that before,' said the 45th male Seraphim of Eternity. 
'The pay better be good,' stated Madonna flatly. 
'Oh, we'll pay you plenty,' said Callodyn. 'There are, graces, though. The two of us expect.' 
'What sort of graces?' she asked suspiciously. 
'Nothing that the queen of erotica can't handle,' said Daniel, and pinched her on the butt. 
She slapped his hand away and looked at them both. 'Mmm. I don't know. Your cute. Both of you. Perhaps. How well, you know, extended are you each?' 
'Jesus Christ!' swore Guy. 'What a fucking question.' 
'I get by,' said Daniel. 
'18 solid inches of man meat,' responded Callodyn. 'Believe me babe. I'm massive.' 
'I'm sure,' said Madonna, glancing down at the Cherubim's package. 'But I'm not that type of girl. Really.' 
Guy chuckled on that statement. 
'Well, we can be satisfied in other ways,' said Daniel. 
'Like what,' she asked, again suspiciously. 


4 weeks later, on her first tour of duty as the newly installed 'Queen' of Haven Noahide Fellowship, Madonna was on a slime dunk stand at one of the International Fairs for HNF family conferences. 
She glared at Daniel, who was standing next to Callodyn and a family of Haven who held rubber balls. 
'Hit the target,' said Daniel. 'And no tithing for a century.' 
'Right,' said the father, taking the balls from the kids.' 
'Jesus!' swore Madonna, and as the ball hit, and she hit the slime, she laughed to herself. 'The things a gal has to do for a buck,' she thought ironically to herself. And the incessant laughing of Daniel and Daniel drove that point home all day long. 
The End 



‘Morning Stars of Glory: Callodyn’ 

Prologue 

So the Chronicler finally receives his glory. I wonder what he shall do. It could prove interesting. 

Chapter One 

Steve smiled at Callodyn. ‘It has been a good million, brother. A very good million. But tradition is as tradition does, so here is the key. Enjoy.’ 
Callodyn accepted the worn key to the executive toilet of Zaphon, and nodded to himself. He was old, now, and the realm was gentle and at peace. The wars of life had come and gone, the passions had been severe and determined from so many of them, but as the first 200 million years of Cherubim rule came and went, the realm started becoming something of a semblance of its eternal nature. It started to take on those characteristics, having learned its lessons on life, that would last forever and be those ways of life which all trod down. He thought on his Cherubim brother Jesus. It had only been after the 200th of the Cherubim that he had finally laid down the Christ title and simple been Jesus the Cherubim, 21st Cherubim in the Realm of Eternity. Callodyn had spoken with Jesus recently, telling him that life was a template of itself in many ways, and that as you reaped what you sowed, life echoed on forever repeating itself in many ways. He would likely be a Christ of sorts again some day, an everlasting figure in the eternal realm, but it was now simply falling into the regular routines of life which made one happy and brought about the simple bliss of being alive. 

Having arrived at Zaphon’s executive overseer office, he opened the door, looked inside and smiled to himself. He came in, sat down at the desk, and spun himself around in the swivel chair. This was good, he thought to himself. But he would not be doing anything much different from any of his predecessors. In fact, a simple quiet tenure in which lives were lived and people simply were happy. The only plan of Callodyn, Cherubim of Eternity. 

* * * 
Callodyn sipped on his Coca Cola. 'You know, Kayella. Your actually not that stupid.' 
Kayella grinned. 'Here we go again,' she said. 
'I mean, I know your a woman. I've learned to accept that fact.' 
'Amazing,' she replied. 
'Nobody's perfect. But, its weird. These days I've noticed you are good at stuff. You can actually cook now. I think you must have been taking lessons or something, but some of your recent meals have registered on the edibility scale.' 
'Amazing,' she replied again. 'Do tell.' 
'I mean, that steak you cooked the other night. I could actually eating it without this inborn desire to vomit and commit suicide.' 
'Yes overseer,' she replied. 
'Yes. Yes that's right. The Overseer of the Realm of Eternity. I'll get to that I suppose.' 
'It's been a decade, and you showed up at office on day one, and haven't been back at work since.' 
'I'm lazy,' he replied. 
'Don't I know it,' she said. 
'Mmmm. Anyway, your quite talented as well. I have noticed your recent colouring in is WITHIN the lines. You always had problems with that.' 
'Your good example has inspired me,' she replied. 
'Yes. Well known for good colouring in,' he replied. 'A Daly trait.' she smirked at that. 'But even Kayella the Cherubim seems to have talent. The mysteries of God they really are unsearchable.' 
'Shut up. Or its boiled cabbage and raw carrot for dinner.' 
'Yes, dearest,' he replied, thinking fowl thoughts of such a concoction. 
* * * * * 

Kayella was doing her washing. She looked through the collection of pink t shirts with red hearts on them, the kind Callodyn liked, and started putting them up on the washing line. She was up high in Zaphon, in the executive suites which were their home for the next million years, but Callodyn had said they may as well look after their own home and not bother with the droids or any paid help. ‘It is good to work, sweetie. It is what we do, and there is a pleasant and soulful gentleness, a calm spirit of the natural, that is in us when we are chopping wood, or putting clothes on the line, or mowing the lawn or doing the dishes.’ And Kayella smiled so happily at her husband’s wisdom and the simple eternal constants he represented. And she was happy, so happy, doing the washing, and looking forward to finishing it off to get inside and eat her tim tams and coffee, and watch ‘The Man From Snowy River 487’ for the millionth time. 

* * * 

David was the 229th male Cherubim of the Realm of Eternity. He followed on after his older brother, Callodyn, with whom he got along very well. In fact, looking at the email inbox, he was happy. There it was, Callodyn’s promised email upon his accession to the Overseer’s position. The 228th Cherubim Angel of the Realm had taken his time, and a decade had passed with nothing from him, but he had rocked up recently to Zaphon and was now getting into the swing of things. 

He clicked on the email, which had the subject line ‘Next Overseer after Callodyn’. 

Dear David 

I have every intention of seeing out my one million years as overseer. I now officially designate in this email that you will be the following overseer at the conclusion of my million years, exactly upon the advent of the first day of 228,000,001 HY. I stress to you, as it was stressed to myself, that selfishness must be from the heart of the overseer, especially in the tradition of choosing the term of 1 million years approximately as overseer. It would be quite improper and rude to extend this period to the embarrassment of your predecessors, who have acted in good faith by working for exactly one million years, and then handing over responsibilities. Yet, it is also important that I make the point that as overseer you do in fact set your own term. If you were to prolong the term you would have to give the realm and the council good reason, for our traditions provide stability for the realm, and the remaining Cherubim are aware of their place and have, likewise, their dreams and ambitions. 

There is much to say and know about the responsibility as overseer, yet as it was stressed to me, so must I stress to you. God will get actively involved in your term and with you for this time. You will be his special son and favoured one for this time, and he will educate and guide you. Be strong, man of God, and keep the faith at this time. 

I could say much at this time, for I have given the matter much forethought. But I will let it be known throughout my time that I have no intention of wavering from the traditions of the realm. 

Yours sincerely 

Cherubim Callodyn 


David smiled to himself. Callodyn’s words were sensible and focused on maintaining the established traditions of the realm. He would respect them and act in accordance, for he knew his God was indeed a God of tradition, continuity and order. 

* * * * * 

Mandy looked at the television screen. There he was, blessed Callodyn, overseer of the realm. He was good guy, was Callodyn, and she remembered there marriages together. They had been blessed times in her long life, but she had eventually gravitated back to Dreznadoranta who had remained faithful as a friend. They were not married, currently. In fact she wasn’t currently even dating anyone. Simply going through the motions in a sense, living life, and being happy with all. 

Sales were steady on her music CDs. She knew she should eventually get around to that album she had long been delaying, and Callodyn had emailed her just last week to ask if she was recording any time soon. 

But, no. She was happy, and at peace. A good time to do not very much and just be herself. To enjoy, as Meludiel would put it, the simple constancy of just ‘Being’. Just being alive for its own sake, without having to commit to any grand agendas, or accomplish any grand goals. 

She picked up the can of Coke, took a sip, and changed the channel. There was a Star Wars movie showing and so, going out to get some of last nights Chinese leftovers, she laid down on the couch, ate her Chinese, drank her coke, and just enjoyed ‘Being’. 

* * * * * 

Saruviel sat in his office in Kalphon keep. Life was currently quiet. His creation was generally running itself these days, and his angelic workers knew all their responsibilities and all their requirements to keep the peace and maintain a steady order. But now it was Callodyn’s turn as overseer, and he could perhaps rest from much of his cautious eye, for Callodyn had long maintained to him that his term would be spectacularly uneventful, and just a quiet time of life. ‘A gentle twilight of the soul, dear brother Saruviel, is all I have in mind,’ were Callodyn’s own words to himself. 

And so far that had proved quite true. Many of his angels, in this third year since Callodyn took over, simply slept a lot and were on extended holidays. They rested, did not much, apart from boardgames and quiet chat and friendly barbecues and picnics. It was truly a gentle and quiet twilight of the soul, and Saruviel let his ambition go for this time. Time just to be the angel Saruviel. Just a simple, gentle angel, who loved God and got along with his brethren. 

* * * * * 

Ambriel was out on Golden Lake. He was sailing, and Meludiel was helping. The sky looked strange. One of its extremely rare Greens with dashes of Orange. And a spirit of ambience over the realm which normally accompanied this colour was felt in his heart. It was different. Peaceful. Longing for the citizens of the realm to simply enjoy the simplicity of life and wonder and marvel in all that was. Ambriel felt so good, so happy, so at peace. And his sister just shined at him, smiling, and feeling marvellous. It was a good time in the Realm of Eternity. A very good time. 

* * * * * 

Kantriel considered Gabriel’s move in their age long game of chess. The end game was approaching, and Gabriel was perhaps in the lead, but Kantriel wasn’t finished yet. The board still sat there in Kalphon keep, immovable, unchangeable, the marble as solid as ever, the way God had created it to last. And it was a testimony to Kantriel of the fidelity of God to his children and to life, that some things didn’t really change that much in the end. 

The last move had been a good one by Gabriel, and he would contemplate his response for a while. On his computer he had pages and pages of notes on the strategies he had been using for this game, which of course needed to be revised and updated with every move. Many strategies and gambits he’d had to let go of over the years as the game progressed, but the objective still remained the same. Victory. 

He took a sip from his juice, looked at the board one last time, and went over to sit by the window. It was dark outside. Twilight had come. He felt, strangely, very gentle. Very much like an angel of his youth, whose memories never seemed to fade away. He felt like the Kantriel of old, young and full of ambition. And he felt, really, right deep down, in the centre of his heart, good. He felt content. And sitting there, looking out at the grounds and gardens of Kalphon, he said a quiet Alleluia, and just enjoyed ‘Being.’ 

* * * * * 

Jesus was fishing with his older Seraphim brother Michael. But they both agreed they were possibly lost, somewere in the swamps of Canbraphora. Jesus found them a freshwater supply and Michael said ‘We can always eat fish,’ so they were fishing and agreed to stay lost for a while. ‘If they need us they will find us,’ said Jesus. 
‘I am sure they will,’ responded the Seraphim. 

* * * * * 

Aquariel put on the ‘Bongiovi All Stars’ CD, laid down on her bed, looked at ceiling, and rested. Album sales were good, something she had been busily praying and fasting for for a few months now, but it was time for a rest. She let the music soothe her heart, and close her eyes, drifting off to slumber land. 

She stood in a field. A white rabbit, which had the face of Leonardo DiCaprio, hopped by, stopped momentarily and said ‘Hi Cutie’ and hopped onwards. She walked on through the field, coming to a well. Suddenly she had a purse by her side and picking out a coin dropped it into the well and made a wish. The Rabbit suddenly came hopping back, turned into a full life Leonardo, and gave her a kiss as she had wished. Yet then, in an ironic twist of fate, it turned back into a rabbit and hopped onwards. Having nothing better to do she followed the rabbit, and suddenly came to a table. There was this funny looking man with a big hat. 
‘Your late,’ he said. 
‘Am I?’ queried Aquariel, feeling a little guilty. 
‘Leo has left us I am afraid. He is off to visit the queen.’ 
‘That is good,’ replied Aquariel. 
‘Now remember, when you meet Alice, do be polite. She is a big fan of yours.’ 
‘I will remember.’ 
‘Good.’ The man poured out Aquariel a cup of tea and she sat there, staring at the flower garden, when Alice was suddenly at the table, looking an awful lot like Avril Lavigne, smiling at her. 
‘I’m your biggest fan,’ said Alice. 
‘That is wonderful,’ said Aquariel. 

And then the dream changed, and she was driving a lorry truck over a large desert highway. 
Kurt Russel was seated next to her, turned to her and said ‘We are running low on water sweetie.’ 
‘We’ll make it,’ responded Alice, for she had suddenly turned into Alice in Wonderland. 
‘It’s all that Rabbit’s fault,’ said Kurt. 
‘Alice said ‘Huh?’, but the dream had changed again. 

Finally, she was sitting in a small garden, at a stone table, and a strange angel approached her. 
‘Are you enjoying your destiny, child of the Most High?’ 
‘Why yes I am,’ responded Aquariel. 
‘Then all is good,’ said the Angel, and then, drifting off to the slumber of the dream world, Aquariel felt as if all her worries and pressures were in the hands of God, and that she never really had anything to worry about anyway. 

The End 

Morning Stars of Glory: David 

Prologue 

‘David, David, David. What are we to do with David the Cherubim?’ 
‘Huh? What was that Satan?’ inquired Lucifer. 
Satan was sitting at the back of the bar, drinking one of his favourite Canbraphoran beers, looking dark and mysterious as he had often done in former years. 
‘Now that we are currently dwelling in the Realm of Eternity, I feel we have obligations, Lucy.’ 
‘Don’t fucking call me Lucy. You know how I hate that bitch.’ 
Satan said nothing, but grinned. ‘As I was saying, LUCY, we have a new overseer, and it could be good time to once again reawaken old agendas. Old rulership agendas.’ 
‘It won’t work,’ commented Semyazen, who was playing pool with Saruvien. ‘They are all sold on goodness. They don’t trust us. If we have anything too lawless they will reject us in the end. They did before – they will again. We only ever attract a small number.’ 
Satan nodded. He understood the winning hand his God occasionally played on him, reminding him that evil would not really prosper. 
‘Then we be more honest about it all, Semyazen. We stress the advantages and qualities of the sinner’s lifestyle, and that goodness is just for schmucks in the end.’ 
‘The Christ-child will get involved. You know Jesus and all his classical teachings on ‘The Temptations of the Devil.’ I am sure that bastard still has it in for us.’ 
Satan nodded. ‘I have been thinking about that issue. And I have a solution. Turn our greatest enemy into our greatest friend. Really, with what I have planned, It just can’t fail.’ 
The Saruvim all looked suspiciously at their leader. 
‘Hey, it should be a hell of a ride,’ said Lucifer. 
‘Whatever,’ said Semyazen. ‘Beats hanging around here all day. 
And one by one the Saruvim agreed, and yet another diabolical plot of the master of evil got underway. 


Part One 

‘David’s Glory’ 


Chapter One 

David was a schmuck of an angel. Really, all things considered, and all relevant opinions taken into consideration, David really was a schmuck. He had very poor taste in music. This came from his offbeat Jewish personality for strange and weird things, original in nature, and neglected by the mainstream. Alternative things, a bit quirky, a bit schmucky and sometimes just a bit plain old stupid. For example, he delighted in shows like the classic earth show ‘Scrubs’ featuring his favourite actor, Zach Braff, and adored South Park, which he called delightful. Yes, he had a queer and unusual sense of humour, but he said he got it all from his older brother by one birth-rank, dear old Callodyn. In their last few years together before the takeover, Callodyn and David had gotten to know each other quite well, and David had often smirked at Callodyn’s ‘Hidden from the world’ cheek and humour. It was the savage and rowdy Irishman in him, the theophany once suggested to him. Not quite yet civilized, despite God’s best efforts at sanctification. But David delighted in him, and emulated much of his ways in his own time as overseer of the Realm of Eternity. David looked similarly to Ambriel, a little bit smaller, and also a little bit more European. But you could notice his Jewish features as well. 

David, in many ways agreed with Callodyn’s desire for continuity, but wanted to bring a slightly more light-hearted feel to the realm of eternity. Callodyn had been a little bit too serious for many, very concerned with his protocols towards the end. David felt people needed to lighten up a little, so brought that sort of philosophy into his time at Zaphon. Certainly, he would be responsible enough to let the people know he was still doing his job properly, but they could relax under his tenureship, which would hopefully emulate in some ways Callodyn’s prior desire for non-interference with the general public for most of his term in office. But David would grab the limelight were and when he could, but with a soft and loving heart. And God loved him all the more for it. 

His twin, Brigid, was close to him. They had married occasionally, and had several children together, and when he began his tenureship he had asked Brigid if she would like to move into Zaphon with him, alongside with some of their children for the sake of keeping up appearances. Brigid had happily agreed, and they were something of the official family of the realm for the next planned million years. Yes, he had no real desire to alter the established tradition of a million years for the realm’s overseer, despite his technical right to do so if he desired. Of course, young Jayden was the next cherubim in line for overseer, and he and David had begun spending some time together already, despite it still being early in his term. 

David was the 229th male Cherubim of the Realm of Eternity, one of 700,000 firstborn male cherubim, although there were now countless offspring. Mating resulted from Unity Hour, when the angels were transmogrified and became able to bear children. David had far too many children now to remember them all, and he didn’t seem them all most of the time, for they were stuck out in the outer rims of eternity usually, although some were in the Realm of Infinity and some scattered out in the human domain of planets. He was a family man in some ways, but usually left his new offspring a fairly decent inheritance at their 25th year of age, which was the general tradition amongst the elderly angels of the realm given their vast wealth acquired over many aeons and their increasing number of children which they would find it difficult to support if they were all around at once. 

His first few years as overseer were quite basic – just getting used to the job, with Callodyn occasionally hanging around giving him some of the traditional overseer advice, but he settled into the job after a while and immediately came to a conclusion. Despite his long desire for the glory of the position, it came down to work in the end. It might have sounded glorious in the job description, but it was just work. But perhaps that was the way it was meant to be – the real time of testing for God’s children – the real time for them to act responsibly and make a decent contribution to the life of eternity. 

As the early years passed, and he gradually got used to the position, Jayden started hanging around a lot more and they drew closer in their friendship. They would play chess often, as well as go out skateboarding and surfing as well, as both of them enjoyed the Extreme Sports. And, in time, Jayden actually suggesting the idea and David finding no objection, David appointed him as his second in command, and Vice-Overseer, a position used occasionally in the past. 

Work went generally smooth enough, nobody really complained, and life in eternity continued on – in general – in the merry hum and strum it had become so famous for. 

Until a folder with ‘Project 666’ found its way onto his desk and, opening up, reading, he sensed the beginning of troubles. Indeed, this overseersmanship would not be known for the simplicity of Callodyn’s reign – by no means at all, by the dread looks of it. By no means at all. 

* * * * * 

‘Project 666,’ began Saruviel, ‘is an attempt to right many wrongs which have been committed against us angels in our life of service to he that is. It is an open declaration of the power of the beast, a spirit committed to absolute freedom in its heart, away from the dogmatic and Neanderthal rulings of the Almighty. I know this spirit well, friends. I know it well. Satan is now working steadily and carefully from 666 Paramount tower to promote and dedicate the ‘New World Order’ of Absolute Freedom which we all, in our hearts, cling to anyway. Embrace the number of the beast, for it is your true freedom friends – it is your true freedom.’ 

The news report finished, the cameras turned off, and Saruviel turned to Satan and said. ‘Well, I hope that satisfies you, dark lord. Remember, you owe me big time for this favour. I know your adversaries will eventually work out your agenda, so I am not overly concerned. But remember, when I call in my favour, you better repay big time.’ 
‘My word is my bond,’ chuckled the devil, who turned to his Saruvim brethren with a mad grin on his face. 

In the overseers office Jayden and David looked totally perplexed. 
‘What the fuck is Saruviel going on about? I thought his old agenda was a thing of the distant past. He’s not gone insane has he?’ 
‘I am not sure,’ responded the flabbergasted David. ‘But we will have to look into it.’ 
Jayden picked up a pencil, started playing with it and said ‘Well. What’s the plan?’ 
‘I am not sure, Kemosabe.’ 
‘Fuck you,’ responded Jayden instantly. 
‘As I was saying, I am not sure Kemosabe, but I remember well enough the old agendas. Something fishy is going on. I don’t think this represents Saruviel’s real position, but that is just a hunch. They are up to something – they have a plot in mind.’ 
‘So we investigate?’ queried Jayden. 
‘Yes. Yes we do,’ responded David. ‘But carefully. We act as if this doesn’t bother us. Give us chance to suss out the enemies plot.’ 
‘I know some people. Some angels who are experienced in this sort of thing. Shall I contact them?’ 
‘Do as you will,’ responded David. ‘But be discreet. We don’t want them knowing what we are up to.’ 
‘Will do Kemosabe.’ 
‘Very funny,’ responded the Overseer of Zaphon. 

Jayden disappeared, and David sat there, thinking over things. This seemed to be, as stated in the papers he had received, the first agenda of Project 666. Yet the second part, while he doubted they would have any success, was a cause for major concern. A cause for major concern indeed. 

* * * * * 

‘Rachel Rothchild! Paging Rachel Rothchild!’ 
The announcement came over the intercom of the airport and, while Rachel was usually an attentative enough angel, she was lost in the magazine special on Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, declaring their undying love for each other – still together after countless millions of years. She had been a particular fan of Angelina’s for quite a long time, even remembering movies of hers from her human years. But that was so long ago, now. So long ago. 

She was on a flight back home, in reality. Really, in truth, back home. And that was difficult for her in many ways, because it caused conflict for Samael who had to visit her from the Realm of Infinity, which was were he usually resided. Yet, ever since her formal receiving into the Cherubim community of the Realm of Eternity, something which had happened in her time in the other Realm of Infinity, but which had been finalised in the Eternal Realm with her declaration by Archangel Michael as the lastborn of the Cherubim, Rachel, now Rachael as an angel, had a new home. And then when Canbraphora had come to be and the Ketravim had started coming forth in greater numbers, her status as the firstborn of the Ketravim found its final home, apparently, on the disc of Canbraphora, were humanity usually began its home amongst the discs of the eternal realm, the inner 29 discs being very difficult under protocols for them to settle on. 

Devuel, though, was far more lenient in allowing humanity onto his disc, not objecting to the mandate of God that from the 30th disc humanity could settle the realm of eternity somewhat, and the former overseer of Florida, now appointed overseer to the 30th disc of Canbraphora, as belied his birth-right, had learned flexibility between the many various spiritual communities which seemed to find their home in Canbraphora. 

Rachel remembered her commitment to Callodyn – in that wedding vow she had taken – and how she believed it would last forever. And in her heart, in some very true ways, she knew that it was true. And while, since they had once more married again, after a long wait for him choosing over Aphrayel or his twin Rhaemliel, she felt, now, she was on borrowed time. It was not uncommon, now, even amongst the most senior of spiritual figures – divorce, that is. It seemed that, in the end, you didn’t really have to stay married to the same person forever, no matter how much you loved them – or had once loved them. Samael had once said to her, ‘we are people of passions, and passion often leads us down paths it wants us to tread upon, despite the best intentions of our heart otherwise.’ And she knew, in her heart, that much was true. But could she ever, ever, really leave Callodyn? How could she break the marriage vows which were central to her life? But, nay, perhaps it was the very fact, in the end, in the divine plan of God, that while she had loved Samael, her home had inevitably come to be Canbraphora, and perhaps that was just the way it was meant to be. Samael had his home and his life and while, in the end, she would always love him and be a faithful friend, they would only likely spend occasional time together, and she would remain in Canbraphora, perhaps to find some other great and true love. Perhaps that was just the way it was meant to be. 

Gloryel once said to her ‘love is a finicky thing, and most unpredictable. Don’t let your heart be taught fidelity to love by a rule – it wants its own life, and commitments only make sense if the passion remains.’ She knew she was still passionate to Samael – she knew that. But she knew, as well, that in the long time together things had, inevitably, cooled down and, perhaps what was the most important thing in Jewish thought anyway, the issue of compatibility seemed to be inevitably coming up. And the more and more she looked at it, and the more and more she saw them together, the more she knew that Aphrayel was the one destined for dear old Callodyn Bradlock. In the end she doubted it could be any other way. 

These thoughts were at the back of her mind as she glanced through the magazine, suddenly made aware of the announcers words of her flight, and getting to her feet, making her way to the terminal. 

* * * * * 

Jacob burped. And then he burped again. ‘Ahh, Hashem. That was a good meal. The best Christmas turkey I have had in ages.’ 
‘You pig,’ said Rachel, under her breath. ‘Don’t embarrass me.’ 
‘Just enjoying Daniel’s hospitality. 

Just then Daniel Daly came back into the room, his wife, Kelly, following him. Kelly was the angel Kayella from the Realm of Eternity and Daniel was the angel Callodyn, both twin cherubim, 228th in rank. They were married currently, and had a little one running around the room, but they’d both had numerous partners and children over the many years. 

‘So tell me, Daniel,’ just then Jacob burped again. ‘Why exactly do you celebrate Christmas? I thought you were a diehard Noahide.’ 
‘Oh, I am. Believe me I am. But in my first years on earth I was brought up Catholic, and Christmas has stuck ever since. Call it ritual more than anything, perhaps – or perhaps, in truth, an excuse for a celebration. Really, I don’t much care either way, and Jesus drops in occasionally to celebrate with me.’ 
‘Oh,’ replied Jacob. ‘I see. So no real religious reason?’ 
‘No, not really. The Christ issue is not really an issue to me and, besides, I never viewed him as the Messiah in my ultimate way of thought. But Christmas is a friendly enough excuse for a celebration, as is Easter, so why make a mountain out of a mole-hill. Besides, his Gospel is still copyright, and I feel convicted when I read the New Testament unless I pay some dues, in a sense.’ 
‘Interesting,’ said Jacob. ‘I have never really thought about it like that.’ 
‘Oh, it’s different for you. Israel knew much of what Jesus had taught already. But he was a big first impression for me, so I stick with Christmas and sometimes Easter eggs for the kids, and I leave it at that. He never complains.’ 

Just then little Caleb, Daniel and Kayella’s new son, wandered over to Jacob, put his hands on Jacob’s knees, and asked ‘Do you have a present for me?’ 
‘Yes I have,’ responded Jacob, who seemed to magically produce a gold coin from his ear. ‘Don’t spend it all at once, you little tyke,’ said Jacob, and Caleb took the coin gleefully and ran off to show it too his sister. 

They celebrated another fine meal in Paradision on Televere and, for Jacob, it was one of the more illuminating insights into the mind and workings of Daniel Daly. 

* * * * * 

‘Dear, dear Satan. You really are an idiot.’ 
‘Why, Meludiel. I didn’t know you cared.’ 
‘Despite the fact that you are my cousin, and you have many times in the past shown genuine remorse and repentance over your carnal ways, I still think you are the lord of evil.’ 
‘Why, that is just the Christianity in you, dear, dear Rebecca. Anyway, I take it the slur is from Saruviel’s announcement.’ 
‘Yes. And Ambriel has sent me to make sure you play up in no real way with the populace. My assignment is to watch you to ensure you are obedient to your covenant with God – the covenant you voluntarily agreed to.’ 
‘Yet, dear Meludiel, could I not quote dear Kimborel’s Torah principle at you in saying ‘Rebel against your God’. Does not that surely grant me the occasional respite from my most considered works of holiness.’ 
‘Holiness. Yeh right. I am not sure if you ever really learned what that meant.’ 
‘Why Rebecca. And I thought you appreciated me.’ 
‘Only when you give a damn, which is very rare at that.’ 

Satan stared defiantly at his opposition, a most dedicated angel, ever serving her holy father, yet then softened and admitted the truth. ‘Meludiel, what is life without a bit of spice, huh? What is the point of being good all the time, if we can’t occasionally let off some steam and be bad. Yet, while you denounce me for my poorer qualities, I should righteously call ye a hypocrite for not admitting the temptations of your soul.’ 
She stared at him, taken aback somewhat, giving those thoughts some words. She spoke eventually. 
‘I - - - Can, let down my hair from time to time. In fact I do. But I am responsible in how I let off steam, not to the hurting of someone else.’ 
‘Yet life would be so completely boring if we were good all the time. The whole purpose of sin in God’s design is not to make us choose holiness, as you naively think. It is to outlaw those things which he doesn’t want us to get carried away with because of the harm they can do.’ 
‘There – you admit it yourself.’ 
‘But what you don’t yet understand, dear Rebecca, is that a little sin never hurt anyone. It is how we learn in life. It is how we grow and, despite what you think, mature. Remember, you can’t break an omelette without breaking eggs.’ 
She thought that over, decided it was an interesting point to contemplate, but responded with what he seemed to be admitting. 
‘Then I can take it that you will have your fun, but not put the realm through too much heartache.’ 
‘Scout’s honour,’ he responded, making the scouts sign. 
‘Then I will be watching. Have your fun, but there will be hell to pay if you mess around too much. Trust me on that, devil.’ 
‘As surely as God is good,’ responded Satan, with the most malevolent of grins. 

* * * * * 

Shamus Warne was a regular type of Cherubim angel in many ways, but with extraordinary talents at Cricket. Cherubim angels were graced with original single word names from birth ranks among both the male and females of 1 to 100,000 and 600,00 to 700,00. But for the middle 500,000 of both male and female Cherubim there existed quite extensive names of 2 or more words. Shamus had a middle name – Keith – which was by no means an uncommon phenomenon amongst the community. 

His twin, Lizzy Hurley, was dear to him in many ways, and they had been together on and off for a very long while. Of course, she barracked for England, were she had been born, while he was a patriotic Aussie. Lizzy had had a thing for Sariel for quite a long while, those two having been together also on and off for a long while. 

Shamus played regularly in the Australian Test side of the Realm of Eternity, relying not only on his incredible talent at the game, but his vast experience, and his huge popularity and legendary status. There was a pupil he ministered to a lot – a Saad Bead Warner – who was adept at many of the skills of cricket, and who was Warne’s best long term bet to gain crucial victories against the age old enemy in the test arena. Committing to cricket long term took guts, as Warnie had put it, and patriotism. And a hell of a lot of commitment. To Warne, everyone could make it to the top team if they would only prepare to commit the length of time necessary to bring out the best talent in them. But while he said everyone could do it, he likewise very often commented that so few gave that much of a damn to push themselves to such a limit. But Sariel often commented to him that some players were yet to enter the main game in any way, shape or form at all, and that learning eternal commitment took a long time – his words, thus, could be spoken in haste. And Warne knew that to be true, which made him look, as a usual selector on the Australian team, not only for talent but, perhaps most of all these days, the simplistic attitude of love of the game and a desire to play it forever. If that was present – eternal commitment, the rarest of commodities, then he could inevitably groom a champion, no matter how initially untalented at the game. In Saad he saw such commitment, which was a double blessing as the lad was already great at the game. 

And he would need to be. 

For with over 367 million test series now played between Australia and England, the poms had a 51 to 49% advantage, and the Aussies were well over a million test victories behind. But, in truth, over the vast time they had been playing it was not really such a lead, but it was usually on Warne’s mind. 

The Aussies, in early years, had gotten a brief lead, but the poms had quickly caught them and maintained it usually. But Australia would from time to time catch them and put on a spurt, which was inevitably matched. It was a bloody hard contest, and while he would always put in maximum effort, he often felt he was getting nowhere. Which, philosophically in many ways was true, for it was just a competition which had no specified end, but pride was still at stake. And it was something to do and gave them bragging rights. Either way, there were certain ‘Bragging Posts’ and these were usually the number ‘1’ figure, with the new addition of each fresh ‘0’, starting the new decimal place. The first to 100 tests had bragged. The first to 1,000 tests had bragged more. But the first to 1,000,000 tests, the old enemy England, had bragged for ages. Australia would be the first to One Billion – Warne would make sure of that. 

In other respects in life, apart from his cricket commitments, he did a show on TV called ‘Warnie’ which was a top rater. It was the standard Aussie sports show stuff like the ‘Footie Shows’, and in the endless interviews of various stars and cricketing legends, Warnie had met them all. 

He was generally pleased with life, and looking forward to next years Ashes, which looked promising for the Aussies, and at this point in his life, really, he wouldn’t change a thing. 

* * * * * 

‘Ultimately, no. The twin thing does not work on marriage necessarily – only for a certain percentage. A lot of them are unfortunately still caught up with the idea that the twin is their soulmate, but the twin is meant to be a sibling in which you can confide and share a personal brotherly-sisterly relationship with. For Michael and Elenniel it works, and was intended to as I see it, but for others it doesn’t quite. And, largely, for the reasons I have stated – general compatibility, both physically, mentally, spiritually, psychologically, emotionally and according to many other factors.’ 

‘For example,’ continued Cimbrel to David, ‘Sariel and Gloryel have a great rivalry and friendship, and there is much love because of it, but physically they match better with other alternatives. They are not necessarily the most ideal of mates. And, perhaps, while I haven’t studied them a great deal, their competitive spirit can sometimes push the edge a bit, not healthy in someone you profess to love. Ultimately, the twin does have a purpose, but finding ultimate romantic fulfilment in the twin is not necessarily the case.’ 

‘And Meludiel?’ queried Ambriel. 
‘She is too tall for you, David. We have long known that. Psychologically, men universally desire a slightly shorter mate – that is the usual way of things. It is what usually works best in nature.’ 
Ambriel knew Cimbrel was speaking the truth. He had been researching this subject for many millions of years now, and was finally digressing some of his findings. And they seemed to resound with uncanny wisdom – as if they were the summation of common sense, something Cimbrel was good at achieving.’ 
‘So she is not for me,’ said Ambriel, glumly. 
‘If you love her, well, that works through these things. It is like the X Factor in relationships – it overcomes such difficulties and makes things work which might otherwise not have.’ 
‘But as you said, there are better choices.’ 
‘Yes. Usually. Probably. Look, I’ll be honest – definitely. It is rare that the twin is the right one and, even though I hate to say it, Michael, while he is very, very compatible with Elenniel, could perhaps even find a more suitable partner if he so desired to. But let me stress this to you – if the relationship is working it is only a concern. Just that – a concern. And you both need the right mate.’ 

‘Thank you Cimbrel,’ said David. He left Cimbrel’s school room, returned to the school cafeteria, ordered a milk-shake, and sat in thought. He loved Meludiel – he had poured his heart and soul into her – but she was not the one, in the end. She was, as much as he hated to say it, too tall for his slender build. He would let her know, one day. One infinite day in the future, for he would stay with her for now. But one day he would tell her, let her know, and see just what would be of love.’ 

* * * * * 

Luladiel, 30th born of the female Seraphim of the Realm of Eternity, looked at her twin Devuel, zonked out, high as usual, predictable as hell. He had the world in his hand, still. One of the most popular comedians of all time, and overseer of Canbraphora. Yes, the public front was all roses, but privately he was a wreck and his vice-overseer now did most of his responsibilities. And when it came to lovemaking these days? She was unaware how long it had been since her last decent orgasm – too long, and Devuel didn’t seem to care either way. As long as he had his pills, that seemed to make him happy enough. 

She remembered, now, in the beginning. When Saruviel had attracted him to his ideas of freedom. He’d still been a passionate angel, still responsible, but something had rubbed off. An attitude in which it was ok to whatever the fuck you wanted to do. And while he had long ago repented of that, and admitted as such, it was still something which had invariably come into his character. He cared less, now. He cared less. 

She walked over to him, kicked his butt, but he didn’t respond. He was totally wasted. Fuck it. She’d had enough. Too many millions years of this shit had paid the toll, and now she would let him know. She walked over to her desk, sat down, took a quill, inked it, and wrote. 

Dickhead – I mean, Devuel. 

When you get the fuck over it, whenever that will be, look me up. Perhaps we can be friends again. I’m leaving Canbraphora. Going to Televon. I have friends there. Don’t come chasing any time soon. I think you know the problem. I think you know what I am not saying. 

Still your friend, but your lover no longer. 

Luladiel. 

She tore off the sheet, placed it on the fridge under a magnet, and quietly, silently, handbag in hand, left. And she didn’t see him again for a hell of a long time. 

* * * * * 

Saruviel looked at the cheque. 48 quintillion realm credits. Not too bad, actually. Quite a hefty payout from Satan for his services. Still, he didn’t do it for the money. He didn’t even do it for the favour. He did it because you were supposed to serve people in love and friendship. And he knew that now. God had said it to him once, that he would accept that one day. Goodness. And he supposed he had. He supposed he had. 


Chapter Two 

Cosadriel looked at the invitation. 

You are Invited to 

A Gala Event. 

The Inaugural 666 Ball 

The ‘Entertainment Complex’. 

Sydney IV - Canbraphora 

Karmon Ranladon 

8 pm – 12 pm 


Karmon was next month and Ranladon the third day of the month. He hadn’t ever been to Sydney IV in Canbraphora, but most Sydney’s were the same, as most cities with the same name with the recurring numbering system to rank them were. 

But the 666 Ball? The realm had seen too much of that 666 nonsense in the first 20 million years when Jesus had pushed his agenda to its bittermost and quite unexpected conclusion. It had been a rush, but he thought that was a thing of the past. But life went in cycles and circles – perhaps its time had come around again. Still, he was not doing anything at that time, and Oshanel his twin who he lived with always liked a good outing. Sure, he would go. It could promise some unexpected surprises. 

* * * * * 

Michael the Archangel - currently overseer of Zaphora, which he had served the position of for a heck of a long time, ever since Loquiel, at the beginning of his overseersmanship of the Realm of Eternity had suggested to Michael that he may as well be overseer of Zaphora specifically, as whilst this technically had been the seat of authority of the Overseer, and his prerogative to rule from, the job had always had the task of overseeing the entire realm of eternity, over every disc, that it made no sense to leave Michael without his responsibilities, and thus Loquiel came to power of Zaphora and the entire realm briefly, but changed his position and, thus permanently the overseer’s position, to that of overseer over the Realm of Eternity in general, leaving each disc overseer to run their local affairs, with Michael, who had before-hands occasionally sat in over the disc of the overseer who currently ran the entire realm, now finding himself the permanent overseer of Zaphora itself, the central and first disc of the Realm of Eternity - was content. 

In some ways he now enjoyed the privilege of being the most respected of the angels of Eternity. Yet, even he, was answerable to the current overseer of the Realm of Eternity, newly appointed Cherubim David, and all of them were in turn answerable to the council of the 7 Ozraphim angels, who held council in a parliamentary section of Zaphon tower, a little bit higher up the tower than the Overseer’s office, who was a little bit higher up the tower than Michael’s office. Of course, near the top were the twin Oraphim’s office, Logos and Memra’s dominion, the second ranked celestial’s of eternity, one rank beneath firstborn son of God, Metatron, who was the singular Onaphim of Eternity, whose consort Angela also held office with him, only in a matrimonial sense, whose office was even higher up than that of Logos and Memra’s. Of corse, the theophany was at the top, unsurprising to everyone. But he usually resided at home, were someone at the end of their divine quest in life would eventually end up and get the answers they really needed for their eternal existence. Michael had – it was what God seemed to be for in many ways. 

Of course, on current issues, this so called 666 project could be an interesting enough diversion for young David to find his feet with, which undoubtedly was his heavenly father’s intention, and he had just been emailed by an angel of certain repute about a request from the current vice-overseer of the realm, young Jayden, for assistance in countering the adversarial shenanigans of the dark lord. He was sure Danny-Wanny and Vally-Boy would cope well enough. 

He stared at the TV, yelled to Elenniel in the kitchen if she wouldn’t mind getting him a cold can of coke and, soon enough, she entered, with a ‘You should have got it yourself’ look on her face, giving him guilt. But opening the can, watching the ice hockey, he didn’t seem to mind that much anyway, and drifted off into the heavenly life of Archangel Michael, Seraphim of Eternity. 

* * * * * 

Devuel felt like total shit. He had a hangover, and despite his constant bemoaning for Luladiel to get him some ice water, she never seemed to materialize. Finally he’d had enough, and getting to the fridge, pulled out a cold bottle of Perrier and drank, feeling somewhat better after finishing the bottle. 

He looked around. The place seemed still. Something was missing. Something wasn’t right. He went off in search of Luladiel. 

Not finding her, he presumed she was off shopping or the like until he found the note. And then, saying ‘Fuck’, he slouched down onto the couch, said again ‘Fuck it’, and reached for a can of beer, began drinking away his misery, saying he would sort out the situation in the morning. He never did. 

* * * * * 

Azrael looked at the invitation which Kwintakel just handed to him. ‘Who’s it from?’ he queried. 
‘The Devil,’ she responded, before exiting the room. 
‘Very funny. The Devil my arse,’ he said opening the letter. It was from the Devil. An invitation to the 666 ball. Somehow he knew he shouldn’t go, but he thought it could be interesting. Perhaps time to see what the old devil was up to. Could be good for a laugh either way. 

* * * * * 

Katy, also known as the Seraphim Angel Luladiel, but using her human name out on Televon, as was customary amongst angels who had tasted human life on earth when travelling to the planets of humanity in the spiritual universe, sat on a couch in Daniel Daly’s abode, looking absentmindedly into space, Kelly watching her, not saying anything, as she thought better of that, but waiting for Katy to speak. 

Finally she broke the silence. ‘I love him, you know Kell. I love him.’ 
‘There doesn’t have to ultimately only be just one. I don’t think God himself advocates that – not from my experience anyway.’ 
‘But he is special, Kel. He’s my twin, you know.’ 
‘Get over it.’ 
‘Get over it! Forever together, practically, and you tell me to get over it?’ Kelly said nothing. 

They sat there, Daniel came back in, gave Katy a glass of grape juice, and sat down next to Kelly. He looked at her, but she had gone back to her absent minded staring. 

Katy turned to Daniel. ‘How do you do it? You have had so many lovers, but you always seem to come home to Miss Clarkson here.’ 
‘I put my twin first, in my heart,’ responded Mr Daly. ‘It is that way. But that really means she has the majority of my time and passion, as opposed to others. But I DON’T neglect others. The heart is a strange beast, and when some in earlier days called my ways cheating, I responded that they were just natural affections of the heart, not to be put away and ignored, but followed naturally with the genuineness which comes from the heart.’ 
‘And how have you found that,’ she responded. 
‘It is freedom. And while I would probably be perfectly happy with Kel here, it is a relief to be able to find romance and love with other women as well. I think that is a natural part of how we are made.’ 
‘What about men? Any interest.’ 
Daniel smiled. ‘Oh, I could tell a few tales about certain guys, but to cut a long story short, no. There have been no specific romantic liaisons or sexual encounters with men. I have never even kissed a guy, ok. But some guys have tugged on my compassion and platonic love. Some guys I have cared about very deeply. Perhaps like the biblical David and Jonathon – I care for many guys, but I am basically hetero.’ 
She nodded. She wasn’t. She was bi. ‘I guess I am different, Daniel. Perhaps more honest than you. I admit I like the same sex as well – in that way.’ 
‘I thought you did,’ responded Kelly, giving her a bit of a look, but not saying anything. 
‘So that is why you live in Canbraphora,’ queried Daniel. ‘Because of realm policies.’ 
Katy looked miffed, but responded. ‘In truth, that may have been foreplanned by our heavenly father. He probably knew I wasn’t quite straight when I was in his heart, and being placed on the 30th disc alongside Devuel, as opposed to the 29th – well that was probably the wisdom of God.’ 
‘And thus you practice your lifestyle freely?’ queried Daniel. 
‘Not completely. There are certain protocols they expect for living right next to the 29th disc, were such things are forbidden. But we have a large degree of freedom.’ 
‘Mmm,’ nodded Callodyn, understanding. 
‘Well you better beware my liberality,’ responded Callodyn. My disc of overseersmanship is way out. The 368th.’ 
‘Do you go there much?’ queried Katy.’ 
‘Not much, yet. It is not very established yet, being so phenomenonally enormous. I had put in my basic plans for city structures and the names of the major districts, as God requires of all of us. And the language and so on.’ 
‘Yes. I remember Devuel had somewhat of a say in Canbraphora later on.’ 
‘We were still learning at that stage, and a lot of things just happened sporadically. But it is very well planned out now.’ 
‘Do you plan on ultimately settling on, what is it, Callophora – that’s its name isn’t it?’ 
‘Yes. Callophora. And, yes, probably. It will likely end up my permanent home.’ 
‘Probably mine too,’ responded Kelly. ‘Event though I will have overseersmanship of my own disc later on, I will likely settle on Callophora. We have discussed this and Callodyn doesn’t like me so far away. I plan on only needing to be on my own disc occasionally.’ 
‘Like the way Elenniel stays with Michael at Zaphora instead of Elephora?’ 
‘In some ways,’ responded Kelly, rubbing Calldoyn’s shoulder. ‘Essentially, though, when we are together I will be at Callophora, and when apart I will likely be at my own disc.’ 
Katy nodded. That much seemed wise enough. 
‘Well I am glad you two have worked that much out,’ continued Katy. ‘Me and Russell might take forever.’ 
‘Don’t give up Miss Hudson. If you love him, things will work out in the end.’ 
‘Let’s hope so,’ responded Katy. Let’s hope so.’ 

* * * * * 

Danny Wanny and the original Kemosabe sat in David’s office, Jayden standing by the window, trying his best to look very cool, David twiddling with his pencil, trying his best not to look too schmucky, ready for work from their new employers. 
‘Ok,’ said the 45th of the Seraphim males. ‘If we take this assignment, we want certain voting arrangements at a certain LATTER point in history to go our way. Okely Dokely?’ 
‘And the arrangement?’ queried the oh so cool Jayden from the window. 
‘Yes, the arrangement,’ responded David.’ 
Vally boy tossed an envelope on the desk, which David picked up and read. After a few moments he handed it to Jayden, who likewise read it. Finally David spoke. ‘Why you two? Huh? Why would we agree to that? Seriously, we can find others for our current problem.’ 
‘But you wanted us,’ said Valandriel. ‘And your rep is on the line.’ 
David nodded. That much was true. 
‘And if we agree,’ responded Jayden. ‘Just these votes? You’re not asking us to use our influence at that point in time are you?’ 
‘Certainly not,’ responded Daniel. ‘We will take care of that. Just guarantee us your votes, and the current sitch will turn out for David’s glory. Trust me.’ 
‘Yes, trust you, said David. ‘Well, ok. I am not sure I would have even voted for Michael anyway, but you will do.’ 
‘Then we have an agreement,’ asked Daniel. 
‘We have an agreement,’ responded David. And they all shook hands on it. 

* * * * * 

‘The makeup is terrible.’ 
‘It will do.’ 
‘You’ll never get in.’ 
‘I have this,’ said the in-disguise Daniel, waving the invitation to the 666 ball in front of Ariel, his twin’s, face. 
‘They’ll know who you are.’ 
‘Possibly. But the invitations have no names on them.’ 
‘Still, they’ll know.’ 
‘We’ll see.’ 
‘Is Valandriel tag-teaming with you.’ 
‘Indubitably.’ 
‘Yes would have done. You look like an idiot.’ 
‘The sacrifices we make.’ 
‘For what exactly.’ 
‘Oh, never mind,’ responded Daniel, not wishing to broach the subject. ‘Are you gonna kiss me?’ 
‘Ok Elvis,’ said Ariel, kissing Daniel in his Elvis look-a-like outfit. 
‘Thanks Sweetheart,’ responded Daniel in his best Elvis voice, which made Ariel smirk. 

* * * * * 

He met Valandriel in the parking lot of the gala event, noticing Azrael and Cosadriel having an argument near the entrance to the complex, most like them in so many ways. 
‘Shall we,’ said Valandriel, who looked like Robin Hood. 
‘Lets do it,’ responded the 45th born of the Seraphim. 

* * * * * 

‘…………..and thus, now with controlling shares in 95% of blue chip companies worldwide, 666 corporation has come a long way in achieving its eternal objectives – rulership over all. But please, here our dark lord himself. He has prepared some words.’ 
The host sat down, and Satan, the lord of the fallen, took to the dais, looking as grim as ever. 

‘Friends, Ladies and Gentlemen, esteemed guests. It is our time. It is our time. And now…’ The lights in the complex dimmed, and a projector began running, up against the white screen behind Satan. ‘And now…..The Future.’ 

A voice began speaking. 
‘The 666 agenda is simple. We are a fellowship, an association, a club, of likeminded individuals, dedicated to freedom above all else, and putting the heavenly hierarchy in its place, accepting the statutes of liberty as sovereign. We will gain our freedom through the implementation of our marking system – a simple stamp pad with a smiley face and the 666 number underneath. Once stamped upon the right hand or the forehead, a person’s allegiance becomes beyond doubt to the liberties of free will. Tonight we have the stamp pads located at the exit – be sure to supply your name and take the mark – it is how we keep track of our TRUE devotees. Through our global vision of a united economy, all serving our lord Satan, all serving true freedom, the 666 Project will rid us once and for all of the tired and predictable manifestations of our heavenly father. Soon all will come to know the power and strength of 666 – and they will worship its eternal might.’ 

The screen had been showing scenes of Satan in dramatic poses, showing his own beloved 666 mark, a friendly smiling face with a 666 underneath, above a ‘Have A Nice Day’ logo. To some, perhaps, it was impressive. To Azrael and Cosadriel it was a point of discussion, and then argument over just how stupid Satan was, and for Daniel and Valandriel it was the threat they would have to counter to earn their votes. For a troubled Meludiel, hiding up in the cloisters, watching over, it was a concern. A grave concern indeed. 

* * * * * 

‘Lucy. Who was Jesus the child of heaven? And where is he now?’ 
‘Oh. The Preacher. You are asking about him. Mmm.’ 
‘Yes. And Callodyn and Mandy. And of course Michael and Elenniel as well as Gabriel and Magenta, and Noah and Titea. And Mary. I have in my possession, obtained from Samael at extremely high price, a list of the original children of heaven. And while I supposed I had known all 60 of the children of heaven, there are apparently 70 of them.’ 
Lucy looked honestly at her friend, Celeste, not really wanting to speak any further, but feeling somewhat obliged to. ‘They re-manifested, Celeste.’ 
‘What do you mean?’ 
‘They were born again, or born once more as it was, in a different realm – the realm of Eternity.’ 
‘As who?’ 
‘Their namesakes there.’ 
‘Oh. I see.’ 
‘Yes. Now you know.’ 
‘Do they….Do they know?’ 
‘Not as far as we know. We haven’t yet told them. Maybe at some point in the future, but not now. Too many complications.’ 
‘And those complications?’ 
‘They don’t have the same twin, apart from Michael and Elenniel.’ 
‘Ooh. Oh. That could cause problems.’ 
‘It was God’s idea. Part of his plan. To teach them some lessons they need to know, apparently.’ 
‘Which are?’ 
‘No idea.’ 
‘Interesting, dear Lucy. Interesting.’ 

* * * * * 

‘Face it. Satan has a sense of humour.’ 
‘Explain Kemosabe.’ 
‘I mean, ‘Have A Nice Day’. He is totally having a go at his greatest adversary, the blessed Christ-Child. After all, JC is probably his biggest threat in his plans.’ 
‘That is true. I wonder what he has in mind to counter that threat.’ 
‘Could be interesting,’ responded Valandriel. 
‘We’ll have to do some snooping around 666 tower. We might find some clues.’ 
‘A good enough plan to me, oh honourable leader.’ 
‘It is as you say,’ responded Daniel, bowing. 

* * * * * 

‘I Wanna be with you.’ 
Callodyn smiled at his older Cherubim sister. ‘Uh, Mandy. Aren’t you and Dreznadoranta an eternal item, from memory. That was all your loving devotion – your ETERNAL loving devotion, from the words of the vow as I recall.’ Mandy looked embarrassed. Callodyn still remembered her vows to her twin, Dreznadoranta, all those long years ago. 
‘Things have – changed, Callodyn. I don’t love him like I used to. Not any more. He sleeps around too much with other women while we are married. He is not faithful. And while you tend to divorce a lot, you don’t cheat.’ 
‘No. No I don’t do that. Not that I am aware of anyway. It is not my way.’ 
‘Which is one of the reasons for my words.’ 
‘Isn’t that one of your songs?’ he queried. She said nothing, and he smiled at her. 
He looked at his older sister, looked at her beauty for which she was famous, and the big sincere smile she had on her face, and knew he couldn’t resist. ‘Come back next week. Kelly will have signed the papers by then. We have done this many times before – she usually knows why.’ 
‘Ok. I’ll be back in a fortnight. Give you proper time.’ 

A few nights later, Kelly was crying a little, but signed the papers. She disappeared for a while from his life, and he let her be. She knew what was up. She always knew about Callodyn’s heart. 

Mandy moved in not much later, into his private abode on Televon, and she kissed him, played the wife straight away, and seemed instantly content. As if something was so right and proper about the two of them together – as if something divinely planned was right and proper about the two of them together. 

* * * * * 

‘Lisa, Lisa, Lisa. #1 on the all time Jewish Women contemporary album’s chart with ‘Tail’s’ and you still aren’t satisfied with your success.’ 
Lisa ignored David’s compliment. But King David was like that – full of compliments. 
‘Of course, I always knew you had it in you. Bathsheba once remarked to me that that album would sell the most long term. Too many big hits on it. Too much of a success for the other girls to compete with.’ 
Lisa again said nothing, but her ancient King persisted. 
‘Take my son Solomon for instance. He has assured me he has a mansion on the other side of Canbraphora filled with over 1 Trillion copies of ‘Tail’s’ on CD.’ 
Lisa still said nothing. 
‘Not too mention all the posters up on the wall. Really, I will have to take him up on his offer to view the place some day. You should tag along. We could make it a threesome.’ 
Lisa finally replied. ‘But wouldn’t Bathsheba be jealous. You know how much she covets your attention.’ 
‘Hey, can you blame her taste?’ 
‘Ever the ego maniac I see. Some things don’t change.’ 
‘Don’t be like that Miss Loeb. Honestly, I am proud of you, young maiden. You are a stunning success for our people. You should feel well and truly accomplished.’ 
Lisa smiled, feeling some confidence. The King always brought out the best in his people. Somehow David’s charms always managed to do that. 
‘But myself – I always liked Firecracker. Quite a nice revealing portrait.’ She hit him, but smiled. 
‘Very funny, David.’ And they both burst out laughing. 

* * * * * 

‘Devuel looked at the love poem. 

Luladiel, my deepest love. 
Pure and gentle, heart a dove. 
Luladiel, my blessed twin 
Born so pure, no drop of sin 
Luladiel, come back to me 
I’ll love you true, eternally 
Luladiel, I truly suffer 
For I am just a silly duffer. 

He sent the poem, and waited. 

It was about a month later, a response, in the mail. 

‘Not for now, dear Devuel. I want you to learn your lessons good and proper first. Go off, now. Fornicate as much as you want. Do all the illicit drugs known to heaven. Gamble, get pissed, do whatever. But do ALL of it until you are sick to death with that lifestyle. And then, maybe then, look me up. Kapiche?’ 

He nodded to himself. He knew, now, what the problems really were. But fuckit, he liked his lifestyle, so would take his time about it. That was what she wanted for now anyway. See her again some lifetime. Let her come back to him, possibly, anyway. Just then ‘Circle the Drain’ came on the in-house stereo system. He hated that fucking song, and threw a shoe at the stereo, which clicked off. ‘Thank fucking Christ for that,’ he said, grabbing a beer, and lying down on the couch to again drown his sorrows. 

* * * * * 

Daniel looked at Valandriel, smiling all the time. Vally-Boy was dressed up in a red suit, looking very official, with a fake beard and moustache, and a Muslim head dress on. 
‘My name is Abdul Faraq,’ said Valandriel, in his best Arab accent. 
Daniel himself was dressed in shorts, with a skimpy blue t-shirt on, with an akubra on his head, as well as a fake moustache. ‘And I’m Reg Hardy, mate. Pleased to meet ya.’ 

Not much later they were at the front receptionist desk to 666 tower, realm-wide headquarters to the 666 corporation. The secretary smiled at both of them, instinctively knowing who they were, as they were as plain as day to the dark lord, but she said nothing. 
‘Uh, yes, can I help you sirs?’ 
‘I am Abdul Faraq. This is my close associate, Reg Hardy. We have come to visit your fine corporation, as we are potential investors. Can we possibly have a guided tour?’ 
‘Yeh, love. A tour would be sweet,’ put in Reg. The secretary again smiled and said, 
‘I am sure something can be arranged. If you would wait over in the waiting room, I will see to a guide for you.’ 
The secretary guided them to the waiting room, but just then, slipping quietly and unobtrusively through the front door and into the stairwell, a certain female Seraphim, twin to Ambriel, who had been following the two questing heroes, but staying out of sight. The secretary returned to her desk, momentarily thought someone was watching her, but shook off the feeling. 
A short while later a guide came to greet Abdul and Reg, and announced they would go up to floor 10 to see the basics of ‘Corporation 666’s’ worldwide plan. Meludiel overheard and started up the stairwell. 

They came into a massive office suite which was open plan for the entire tenth level, and the guide showed them around, talking about the various plans, goals and agendas of corporation 666. Meanwhile, Meludiel found a quiet desk, logged into the mainframe under an id tag which was happily sitting in the drawer of the vacant office cell, and started some snooping of her own. 
Half an hour later she had worked out much of Satan’s plans by hacking into the ‘Top Secret – Executive Level Folder’ on the Corporation Intranet. The person at that desk had written their password down on a sticky note, much to Meludiel’s relief. What she learned was in some ways shocking, but not that unexpected. It was typical of Satan, and reminded her in so many ways of Saruviel’s original agenda. But Satan was planning on going even further – total meltdown of the economic system of the Realm of Eternity by the elite business world to the service of corporation 666. This time she knew she would be up against it. 
Shortly Abdul and Reg were being politely escorted out of the building for making a spectacle of themselves, and Meludiel quietly slid back down the stairwell, out through the front door, and back into the busy day. Valandriel and Daniel were shortly booted out after her. 

* * * * * 

Devuel looked at the bottle. He’d had enough, and a little voice in his heart told him to thwart destiny. Lord Chronology often intervened when he felt a heart had something to say. And so, taking himself off to Televon, as sober as he could make himself out to be, he tracked down Luladiel at Callodyn’s home, finding her in conversation with his younger Cherubim sister Mandy. 
‘Look. It is the way I am, sis. It is just the way I am. I know, I fucking know I have my bad points. You don’t have to bloody remind me all the time. But I have my good ones as well. Not many, but they are there. And one of them is this – I love you. Ok sweetie. I love you. And besides – we are meant to be together. Jesus bloody Christ tells me so all the bloody time.’ 
‘Leave Jesus out of this, Devil,’ but she softened. ‘Really? Jesus says we belong together?’ 
‘You know him. King of hearts. Wanting all the twins to be perfectly happy together.’ 
‘Yes, yes he is like that commented Mandy. It has long been a basis of his mandates for his church – the joining of twins together.’ 
‘Come on,’ continued Devuel. ‘Give me a fucking break. I’m only human.’ 
‘Tragically so,’ stated Luladiel flatly. 
‘Come on,’ pleaded Devuel. 
Daniel spoke up. ‘Offer her something. Women are stupid. Uh, present company excluded, that is,’ but the two ladies hissed at him anyway. ‘But as I was saying, Dev. Offer her something. Something real, that she can put her heart upon, and appreciate. Some sort of guarantee with her.’ 
‘Like what?’ asked Devuel. 
‘You really should know,’ said Luladiel. 
‘I have an idea. Why don’t I and Daniel leave you two together. I think, perhaps, you can now sort something out.’ Mandy got to her feet and Daniel followed her into the kitchen. They were at it for hours, literally. But later on that afternoon, a piece of paper having been sworn to and signed by Devuel, witnessed to by Mandy and Daniel, they seemed to have something of an agreement. He was on probation – they all knew that. But Luladiel seemed, for the present, satisfied. And as she bid her temporary hosts adieu, making her way back to Canbraphora with Devvy, she would make sure her twin stuck t0 his agreement. Or there would be hell to pay. 

* * * * * 

David looked at the two reports. One from Daniel and Valandriel, and one signed ‘A Little Birdie’. They were both absorbing, one slightly comical, the other quite serious. Still, now, he had a bit more of an insight into what he was up against. Satan’s agenda, like the Saruviel’s of old, challenged the very notion of the stability of the realm in a mock show of an ideal which was supposedly superior – liberty and freedom. 
David was Jewish – faithful to God and Torah, as per his tradition, and he would not, in the end, brook such behaviour. He knew Satan was a keen lawyer, and probably would work, for now, within the confines of realm law to pursue his agenda. But he also knew the old devil would eventually slip up. It was up to him to wait for his opportunity – but more than that. He was overseer now – the realm, in many ways, depended on his wisdom and insight. If he was going to be an overseer with a legacy, he needed to let people know why. And thus, sitting at his desk, typing away, he concocted his own personal response to the master of evil. His own personal response in the best way any David of any merit knew how. 

* * * * * 

Satan reviewed the tape of the intruder. It was Meludiel – she was as plain as day. She appeared to have hacked into the intranet and quite likely got some classified information. But no matter. That was not important. He wasn’t, in the end, trying to hide his activities. No. In fact, the more obvious, perhaps the better. 

He had known she was sussing him out – she had made that much obvious before anyway. But there was one particular thing, kept on his personal files, he knew about Meludiel. She was still a devoted Christian. And in the way he planned on keeping Jesus Christ at bay, he saw the potential for removing the Meludiel problem before he proceeded. But he would have to be careful – she was not stupid. She would not let go of her bone, like a stubborn dog, and so the only way to defeat her was to be patient while the dog slept and sneak up, grab the bone, and be away before it had woken. 

As for the problem of Jesus Christ – well, it was simple, in the end. Satan knew what motivated his ancient adversary – he knew that, perhaps, better than anyone else. And it was the very fact of that bold claim – that he, Jesus, was the Christ – was the way in which Satan planned on defeating his oldest enemy. 

The End 

Morning Stars: Cyril 
Cyril looked at the executive key. It had just been handed to him. A time to rule, a time to display his wares. 
'You look good in that suit, dad,' said Jacinta Bradley, his daughter. 
'He looks lovely,' said Mary his wife, the Cherubim Jean. 
'I think you'll be the best we've had,' said Gregory his son. 
'He'll be number one,' said Daniel his son. 
'Keep the faith,' said Matthew. 
'Yes dad. Keep the faith,' said Brigid. 
'I'll do my best,' replied Cherubim Cyril. And he intended to do just that. 

The End 


4 O’Clock 
It was 4 O’Clock. God was bored. Too late for clubbing, and way to early to do anything useful for the day. Nothing was open, except the 7 Eleven down the street. But, suddenly, feeling hungry, he grabbed his wallet and wandered off. 

‘Hey, big fella. Good to see you again.’ 
God nodded at the 7 Eleven attendant. He knew this one well. Mark. Made good slushies. 

God looked at the hot pies. There were 2 cottage pies left and a steak and kidney. He was hungry – he ordered all 3. Grabbing two cans of Coke, he sat out the front of the 7 Eleven, staring at the nearby street light, watching a car occasionally drive by, eating his pies. 

Really, there was not much to do at 4 O’Clock on Sunday morning. 

Suddenly someone walked up to the store, dressed in sneakers, shorts and a t-shirt, which all looked saturated. It was Daniel. 

God assessed the situation, walked over to him and asked, ‘Are you having an episode?’ 
Daniel, the schizophrenic, didn’t like saying anything was ever wrong with him. But it was the big fella. 

‘I’m broke, God. No money. I’m miles from home. I was at the river, not knowing what to do. I dived in and crossed over and wandered around the mountains. But I came home.’ 

God looked at his son. ‘Come on. Come with me.’ 

Daniel followed God to his flat, were God got out his car, told Daniel to sit in the front seat, and drove him back home to his worried parents. 
'Hello Cyril. Enjoying your holiday at home?' 
'Yes,' replied Cyril Daly, current overseer of the Realm of Eternity, the Cherubim Angel Cyril, 241st of the Male Cherubim of Eternity. 'It is a break. 200 years in the job and I needed a few years off. It's demanding, but rewarding. 
'Keep at it. He was in a sorry state, but he seems happy now.' 
Daniel was seated on a lounge seat in the front room of 29 Merriman, and was talking to himself. 
'It takes forever to heal,' said God. 'He'll be ok one day.' 
'Let's hope so,' said Mary. 'Let's hope so.' 

Later on God was enjoying his cooled off pies. Daniel was always a worry, but Schizophrenia took a life time to heal. But that was what God’s were for – looking after their sick children. 

It was well past 4, he took a sip of his Coke, turned on MTV and mellowed out, thinking on Daniel, and finally, after a hectic 23 hours, falling asleep. 

He dreamed his dreams, and the Sandman reminded him he would be awake by six, but he didn’t care. It was slumberland of the soul, and another days passions were put to rest in the life of the Theophany of the Almighty God and Father. 

The End 

Abrazabrandelionkonjonshonvantrantavere II 
Abrazabrandelionkonjonshonvantrantavere II was a complicated angel. His father, Abrazabrandelionkonjonshonvantrantavere I was even more complicated, in his own sagralacious and peculiar way. But young Ab had less concerns than his father who, for most of his sojourn in the Realm of Eternity so far, had the main worry of dealing with queries on the exact spelling of his rather lengthy name. 
But AbII, following in his father’s footsteps, being duly honoured likewise with such a lengthy name, one of God the Father’s more epic monikers, and with the subsequent following, did not have to tread down quite as many avenues pertaining to the exact spelling of his name. His father had already fought such battles for him. 
Upon his 37th birthday, when overseer Cherubim Cyril celebrated his 500th year in authority in the Realm of Eternity, his father, though, was becoming quite insistent. It was time, high time, for young 
Abrazabrandelionkonjonshonvantrantavere III, to be born. There was a tradition at stake, and III both logically and numerically followed II, so were was the desired progeny? 
Yet, young AbII, was stubborn. He hadn’t found the right lady yet. After 20 solid years of dating, still the right lady had not quite come around. That was until just last night when, when the word ironic truly had meaning, a lady came into the life of young AbII, which might just have answered the fervent desires of his angelic father. 
Miss Izzyandravangelionvontrontanrantriel was a truly beautiful red-headed angel, much and comely in desire to young Ab. And more than that. The name was most acceptable. Truly, most acceptable. 
Over several weeks they dated, and then he made the proposal, and she affirmed his request with the most welcoming and affectionate of kisses. 
It was just under a year later when, with the priest baptising the child young Abrazabrandelionkonjonshonvantrantavere III, that the old man Abrazabrandelionkonjonshonvantrantavere I smiled behind his son, patted him on the back, and thanked their heavenly father that the tradition started with himself now, surely, would go on forever. At least he liked to think so anyway. 

The End 
‘The Golden Dragon’ 

Cyril was overseer of the Realm of Eternity, and the Storyteller had another Tale. But he shared this one with his father Cyril on a cold and blustery winter's night, when they were holidaying on New Terra in Hull. 
'I've got a story for you old man,' said Daniel. 'I hope you enjoy.' 
Cyril was all ears. 
  
‘The Storyteller’s Tale’ 
  
There was a time, long ago, and I do mean long ago, before the forming of the lands and waters, before the great spirit father who watched over the dragons made a home for them, that the spirit father warred with his son, the great serpent of old, the ancient adversary.  And when he warred with his son, he at one point in his decisions decided to punish him, and through an act of rebellion, sensing his opportunity to teach his rebellious son a lesson, cursed him to the ancient serpent form which birthed our forefathers.  For the serpent is a form from another world, an ancient world, in the heart of the universe, lost to us long ago, so long ago now.  Yet the Serpent, in an act of contrition to the spirit father, was blessed with seven children, and these three males and four females are the forefathers of all of us, who we know as the divine serpent seed, the ancient dragons who now dwell with the ancient spirit father and the adversary in the heavenlies, yet who watch over us still, guiding us in the way we walk and the pathways we follow. 
  
For, younglings, it is our destiny to walk the paths of our world till our dying day, thereupon to be gathered to the spirit world and our fathers and mothers and to know the truth of life eternal and to know the truth of the hidden meanings and to know the truth of the hidden loves. 
  
Yet a time is coming in our world, a time of destiny, in which the new races will come forth, to challenge our authority and to attempt to establish their own rule.  For long ago the spirit father created them, yet they rest at this point, hidden in our world, only to emerge at the end of days, when the war of powers will begin, leading us on to the fateful day of the gathering of doomsday itself, in which those who are triumphant shall rule our world forever. 
  
Remember, learn well the lessons your elders teach you, and the ways of warfare, and the ways of survival, for in the time of testing which will come to us, should we fail, we will not see the ways of life again. 
  

‘Young Hardluck’ 
  
‘How many times have I told you, Hardluck?  Wait until the land creatures have gathered in numbers on the plain.  Should you swoop too soon they will scatter and the clan’s pickings will be scant, far too few to fill all our hungry appetites.’ 
The Golden Dragon Hardluck nodded soberly at his uncle ‘Robust’s’ rebuke.  ‘Yes uncle Robust, I am sorry.  Yet again I have showed myself foolish.  My hunger has gotten the better of me once more, I fear.’ 
‘Yet let not your hunger lead to the clan’s.  Learn patience, or learn to go hungry.’ 
‘Yes uncle.’ 
Robust surveyed the land creatures, wild buffalo, roaming now in larger packs on the plain, having come out of the forest were they usually resided, away from their dragon predators.  The packs seemed to be increasing in numbers so Robust signalled to the assembly of young dragons of the ‘Goldenfire’ clan to start the descent.  As one, following Robust’s lead, they flew down from their lofty peaks on the Ravenforge Mountains, descending towards the plains below, ready to feast on their luncheon and to claim carcasses for their clan’s dinner. 
  
Hardluck hit first, killing four buffalo quickly within a minute.  The others had similar success and they had killed around 50 of the beasts before the rest had scattered, returning to the sanctuary of the forest and the trees which were awkward for the larger dragons to manoeuvre in.  He feasted instantly, starved from not having eaten for three days, but he remembered to limit himself to a quarter of the beast to ensure enough remained for the rest of the clan.  As the blood of the beasts entered his nasal cavities he snorted and clicked his teeth to cause the sparks of fire with the chemicals from the nasal cavities, igniting the blood and spurting out the red flames dragons spurted out.  He breathed fire onto the dead carcass, as his mother and sisters always enjoyed cooked meat, whereas he usually ate raw. 
  
Robust spoke.  ‘It has been good hunting, Goldenfire clan.  Good hunting.  Now let us gather the beasts and return to the mountains, for the clan is hungry.’  With those words said the dragon’s gathered the carcasses into their large claws and took to the skies, steadily climbing upwards to their homes, high in the Ravenforge mountain ranges. 
  
*   *   * 
  
‘Good on you Stormfire.  Good on you.’ 
‘Hah, hah, hah.  You never win Hardluck.  I guess you just have,’ he paused, ‘Hard Luck!’ 
The other dragons of the Goldenfire clan laughed at Stormfire’s sarcasm, congratulating him on again beating Hardluck at a game of ‘Frozen Wings’.  This time Hardluck had frozen in the fall to the earth quite low before using his wings to fly before being hurt, but Stormfire had dropped just that little bit lower and had ‘Frozen’ his wings just that little bit more.  And, thus, once again Hard Luck just simply had ‘Hard Luck.’ 
  
The group of 10 dragons came to the stream gushing forth from the base of Ravenforge Mountains and all started drinking deeply, thirsty from their morning’s activities.  Stormfire, feeling naughty, gulped up some water and, signalling to the others to watch, spurted it on the unknowing Hardluck.  The dragon’s laughed, but Hardluck was miserable.  For so long he had been the butt of Stormfire’s jokes, and while his mother told him to love his cousin, uncle Robust’s son was challenging to get along with.  But that was family, in the end.  It could be difficult, but you had to stick together. 
  
After they had drunk deeply ‘Frostbite’ suggested they climb to the topmost peaks of the Ravenforge’s to survey their territory.  Stormfire led the way and as they climbed upwards, soon coming to the icy snow, the view grew more and more spectacular.  Hardluck had climbed these peaks many times before, both with the clan and on his own, and the cold air at the top was exhilarating, making him feel so alive at times. 
  
They came to the top summits and landed there, the 10 dragons all looking over the realm of the Goldenfire clan.  There were 15 clans of Dragons all told who lived in their world, the world of Draxonis.  The clans met regularly, each year, at the gathering of the clans in the heart of the world, were the lands came together.  At that time they discussed the issues of life common to dragonkind and suitable young female dragons from the other clans were often sought out for mating.  Mating came in early puberty for the dragons, just after their 11th year, when they were capable of siring children.  But children did not come often, in fact quite rarely.  But this was no problem, as dragon’s lived many long years and had ample opportunity to bring forth seed in that time. 
  
The Goldenfire clan lived on the northern hemisphere of Draxonis, along with about 7 other clans, the other 7 clans living on the southern hemisphere lands.  Draxonis was a lush world, with exotic plants and scenery, and many lesser animals of low intelligence, that the Dragon’s often fed upon, such as the buffalo.  But the storyteller told of a time, not too far distant, when the first of the other races would arise, and a time of warfare and testing would come to them.  And for that testing they knew they needed to be ready if their civilization was to go onwards. 
  
Hardluck gazed out from his lofty peak out at the icy valley below, gazing southwards towards the lush green environs and the thick forests.  The Ravenforge Mountains ran the northern edge of their continent, and beyond them were miles upon miles of thick icy snow leading to the top of the world were few ever ventured for lack of heat.  The Goldenfire were the most northerly living of the clans, at the northern most point of the Ravenforge Mountains, and the clan was scattered in groups of families ranging in size from 50 to 2 or 3 hundred all along the Ravenforge.  All told there were several thousand in Hardluck’s clan, perhaps as many as 10 thousand his uncle Robust once claimed. 
  
‘Let’s do the Firestorm,’ yelled Stormfire.  He was named after the firestorm, and it was one of his favourite activities, but of course it always took a lot of energy.  ‘Come on Hardluck, you can be the funnel.’ 
Hardluck groaned, but agreed to his cousin’s request. 
  
7 of the angels got together in a circle on the summit and Stormfire signalled for Hardluck to take to the skies just above the circle.  ‘You ready Hardluck?’ yelled Stormfire.  Hardluck nodded.  Suddenly Stormfire started breathing fire upwards towards a central point near Hardluck and soon the other dragons’ followed him, all breathing fire towards the central point.  When the flames were all burning Hardluck used his Psionic mind powers and, gathering the flames into a ball, concentrating on keeping them gathered, he waited until Stormfire yelled ‘NOW’ and let the ball of flame burst upwards into a magmatic silvery streak which blasted upwards, miles into the atmosphere. 
  
The dragons watched as the flames belted upwards, gradually dissipating into the skies far above them.  ‘That was, amazing,’ said Stormfire and the other dragons all yelled words of boast.  Hardluck returned to the pack, his mind suddenly quite exhausted from having used so much of his Psionic power at once, and said to the group, ‘We best get home now.  I am exhausted.’ 
Stormfire looked at him, was about to suggest something funny, but thought better of it, giving his cousin a break for a change.  ‘Come on then,’ he yelled to the group.  Hardluck is right.  Let’s go home.’ 
  
They took to the skies, floating back down towards the camp, and as Hardluck glided downwards, his mind starting to recover, he wondered to himself once again just how powerful that Firestorm could be if the whole clan was involved.  ‘I might find out one day,’ he thought to himself.  ‘Maybe one day.’ 
  
*   *   * 
  
Hardluck lay on the grass, under the forest trees of their camp, in the section set aside for his mother ‘Greentree’, his sister ‘Blackrock’ and himself.  He was snoozing in the morning sun, half awake, half asleep and just enjoying himself.  He’d had lovely dreams that morning, flying high in the skies, the envy of all the other dragons for his flying prowess.  And then a rare aqua coloured dragon had appeared, called herself ‘Gemstone’ and said she greatly admired him.  And then he had woken, happy as he could be. 
  
He lay there, luxuriating in the warm spring sun, thinking over what he might get up to for the day’s activities.  He had eaten the other day and would not need to eat for a while, but if he over-exerted himself he might have to eat soon.  His spring days were filled, more often than not, with his explorations of the Ravenforge range and the valleys below.  At times he was with the group of young male dragon’s his own age, but more often than not he was snubbed and deemed not quite as cool as the other dragon’s, who all seemed to follow his cousin Stormfire’s lead.  In ways he envied Stormfire.  He was an elegant gold and silver speckled dragon, the pride of his uncle Robust.  Many felt, naturally, that one day Stormfire would take over from Robust as the head of the family for the Goldenfire Clan in this region.  In fact, it seemed it was naturally assumed by all.  Robust expected it – his mother expected it – and while Hardluck had fantasies of leading the family and being a dragon of worth, he suspected such glories would surely bypass him.  But such was life – you didn’t always get what you wanted. 
  
Sitting there his mind drifted back to his youth when his father ‘Ravage’ was still alive.  Ravage had been the family leader but, when he had died in combat with a dragon from a southerly clan, Robust had replaced him.  In his short few years with Hardluck, Ravage had taught his son that leadership qualities had to come from within and, while they could be taught somewhat, could only really be learned in the heart through a life of struggle.  But Ravage had always said he believed in his son and that, when the trials of life had shown his merit, he would be left standing tall.  Hardluck missed his father and thought on those words of encouragement often.  And while he felt he was still growing up and becoming a strong and proud dragon, he realized he still had a long way to go.  But one day he would make his father proud of him – he was sure of that. 
  
Blackrock, his younger sister, came over and laid her head on Hardluck’s back.  ‘Tell me another story, Hardluck.  You tell such good ones.’ 
‘You never seem to get tired of my stories, sister.  But I only know so many.’ 
‘Then tell me one you have told aforetimes.  About the grand Black Dragon.’ 
‘Oh, alright.’  Hardluck rose up onto his legs and sat before his sister, beginning his tale. 
‘The Black Dragon was a fierce and bold dragon.  He was feared throughout all Draxonis for his might in war, and his majestic looks.  But he had a soft heart, and the lovely white dragon ‘Gemma’ from a southern clan loved him and sought him out for mating.  But the Green Dragon was jealous, and challenged the Black Dragon for mating rights.  They fought.  Long and hard did they fight, snorting fire, striking claw, drawing blood.  But the Black Dragon was stronger, and emerged the victor.  And the Green Dragon, retreating home, knew he had been bested and felt the shame of his defeat.  And the Black Dragon and the White Dragon mated and had many offspring, and their legend, so they say, will never be soon forgotten.’ 
Blackrock clapped her claws, and rubbed her neck against her brother.  ‘You tell such good tales.  Thank you Hardluck.’  A mischievous look came into her eyes.  ‘Let’s go for a swim.  Down in the stream.  It’s a warm day, so it would be nice.’ 
‘Oh, alright.  I was enjoying my snoozing, but you talked me into it.’  The two of them took off, to the skies, flying down the valley a little to the flowing stream.  A few others from their family were there, and they came into the water, splashing merrily.  They were having such a good time, splashing away, playing with each other, that Hardluck hardly noticed a very new dragon coming into the stream to sip water.  But Blackrock noticed. 
‘Oh, who is she?’ said the startled Blackrock.  ‘Her colours.  She is so beautiful.’  Hardluck looked to were his sister was pointing and gasped.  It was the Aqua coloured dragon from his dream.’ 
‘We hardly get other dragons up here.  Shall we go talk to her?’ asked Blackrock. 
‘Uh, I guess,’ responded Hardluck, who looked nervous. 
  
As they approached the Aqua coloured dragon, who left off her watering to look at those approaching, Blackrock in her innocence said ‘Hi.  I’m Blackrock.  This is Hardluck.  Who are you?’ 
The Aqua coloured dragon looked at them momentarily and then, seeming to decide that she didn’t want to talk, waded out of the river and departed. 
‘What was her problem?’ asked Blackrock.  ‘She could have at least said hello.’ 
‘Perhaps she is new around here, and was nervous,’ responded Hardluck. 
‘Let’s go tell mum about her.’ 
‘Oh, ok,’ responded Hardluck.  As they made there way out of the river and took to the skies to return to their mother Hardluck looked back, puzzled.  This was generally the homeland of the Goldenfire clan, and while it was not strictly forbidden for other clans to hunt on their territory, it was usually asked beforehand at the council each year.  Perhaps she was just lost.  Perhaps there was no family with her.  All sorts of questions ran through Hardluck’s head, but mostly he was curious about meeting the beautiful dragon from his dreams. 
  
*   *   * 
  
Greentree considered her children’s words.  ‘Well, yes.  It is unusual.  I think that you two should take it unto yourselves to tell uncle Robust if you are worried.  But we occasionally get other dragons from other clans roaming around here.  I don’t think it is an issue of concern, children. 
‘But she was so beautiful,’ said Blackrock.  ‘What if she is lost?’ 
‘And how are those two points connected?’ queried her mother, to which Blackrock stuttered she didn’t know.  ‘As I see it, the world of Draxonis is open to all of dragonkind and we are to live in harmony with each other.  Certainly there are traditional hunting grounds for various clans, but they are tradition only.  Not law.’ 
‘Yes mother,’ responded Blackrock. 
‘So, she was beautiful was she?’ Greentree asked Hardluck.  Hardluck shyly nodded, but said nothing. 
‘Perhaps you may see more of her, Hardluck.’ 
  
They left off pestering their mother, and went off to play around the large clearing, but all afternoon Hardluck could not get the beautiful dragon off his mind and, that night, as he dreamed, the dragon again appeared to him and rubbed her neck against his.  It really was quite a comforting dream. 
The End 
The Facts of Life 
  
It was not long before the death of the fourth beast, and Ambriel was doing his duties in Israel as Ruler and Messiah.  It was about this time, not long before the end, in which Daniel Daly was explaining certain protocols required of Israel towards the gentile world and, a curious issue, the reasons why gentiles no longer complained about the impending Israelite Messianic Kingdom over mankind.  They all knew it was coming in their hearts, and that 666 himself, master Saruviel, would not be ruling too much longer. 
  
The gentile nations had sunk in their holiness standards.  While churches still existed, they had shrunk in numbers greatly because so few were willing to commit to the standards of holiness which Jesus required of them.  They didn’t really give a fuck about being that holy. 
  
And then Noahide faith had shown up and absorbed, in general, those with just a basic sense of lawfulness towards God. 
  
Yet the world, those whose families left the church and did not turn to Noah – the gentile nations of the world – well, they served Saruviel, but in the end they only served their own lusts and desires.  They did not care. 
  
But there was an undercurrent amongst them, promoted by various Christian, Noahide, Muslim, Bahai and Jewish bodies, that the righteous would end up ruling the sinful gentile nations of the world, simply because the pious of the nations were doing the shit work in ensuring, at the very least, a basic sense of lawfulness – even though the standards were far from high.  And with that undercurrent the gentiles of the world who acknowledged God did not seem to care anymore wether they were ruled or not.  The spirit had made it perfectly clear that over the many generations so many of their ancestry had had ample opportunities to repent and serve God, yet they had served their own lusts and desires instead.  And so, because Israel and their spiritual offspring were doing the real shit work of sorting out these sinners, they were given the reward of ruling mankind in the soon to be realized Messianic Kingdom.  And this, now, was being accepted.  The gentiles knew what was required of them – but they didn’t care.  They would only serve Israel in the end because their own standards had been so low, that they knew they would get into real trouble with God if they sunk any further. 
  
And then came the end. 
  
And Saruviel was taken out of the picture, as was Jesus.  And Michael reigned over the millennia, yet David Rothchild was always there as ruler of Israel.  And then, the day came, Michael and all of the angelic host amongst mankind were returned to heaven, barring two members – David Rothchild, and the angel Callodyn, who had been serving God personally for particular rewards. 
  
And then there were two. 
  
David, from his many conversations with Michael, learned of Meludiel, but learned that he had married a human woman, for which Saruviel had judged him for.  But David had married her in grace, for he loved her. 
  
Justine Atkinson had been blessed with uncommon life because of her husband, and when what was also called ‘The Rapture’ occurred at Unity Hour, and the angels were taken away bar two, Justine sat with David, in their palace in Jerusalem, looking over the Kingdom of God they were destined to rule together for quite some time yet to come. 
  
And then began the new prophetical age, when new religious teachers arose amongst mankind, teaching new revelation and new holiness, and attempting to redeem mankind from the terribly low standards he had sunk to prior to the Messianic Kingdom.  And David was largely behind this work. 
  
As for Callodyn, he was undertaking one primary objective – the continuation of his wealth building for himself and his various clan offspring’s. 
  
David knew Mr Daly was the richest man in the world, exceeding himself now by quite a fair margin, but that particular child of Noah had always served God with the kind of determination which made such things, perhaps, inevitable in the end.  It was just Callodyn’s talents coming to the surface in that way. 
  
Yet the day came, towards the last thousand years of David’s rule, when he had set things in place and, in the restored United Nations, something which David had worked upon to ensure no Saruviel could disrupt again, he had set things in place for the eventual emergence of an Arch Regent Chancellor to administer mankind’s affairs from the proposed seat of Stellar Harmony in New York.  While his offspring would continue in their role as defenders of God’s faith from the Israelite Kingdom, their role would be royal – a figurehead.  Administration would go back to the world to run their own affairs.  Israel would retain royal power, but nothing more. 
  
And then David passed, and returned to heaven, and Justine joined him a few years later. 
  
And then there was one.  Just one. 
  
*   *   *   *   * 
  
Cherubim Ramiel sat in the reception of ‘Daly Tower’ in Canberra, waiting to be called in.  He was on a diplomatic mission from heaven, for the time had come for Mr Daly to put forward exactly what he wanted. 
  
Soon he was called in, and Daniel sat there, in his office, the last angel on Earth, smiling. 
  
‘Ramiel.  Good to see you again.’ 
Ramiel cut to the chase.  ‘What do you want, Daniel?  What do you want?’ 
Daniel looked at Ramiel, picked up a letter opener, toyed with it, and turned to the window, in his upper Garran office, looking out upon the nearby hospital.  He was happy.  Very happy.  He could now get exactly what he wanted, and he knew why as well. 
‘You are authorised to speak on behalf of God, I take it – as was arranged?’ queried Daniel. 
‘I am,’ responded Ramiel. 
‘Then I will cut to the chase.  He is not interested in reinventing the wheel – is he?  He is not interested in replacing Israel’s role.’ 
‘He never really has been, Mr Daly.’ 
‘Yet, I could if I so chose.  He has given me the power to do so if I chose.’ 
‘Yes,’ stated Ramiel flatly. 
  
Daniel nodded, and turned again once more to look over the hospital. 
‘I always like Canberra this time of the year.  Autumn is my heart, I think.’ 
Daniel turned to Ramiel.  ‘If I am to come home any time soon, and forsake my planned glory – well, there must be……………………………………………………… 
  
He turned to the window. 
  
  
Eventually Ramiel spoke. 
‘Yes.  There must be???’ 
Daniel turned back to him. 
‘There must be… Compensation.’ 
  
Ramiel nodded.  He assumed as much. 
  
‘And your desires?’ 
  
‘For forsaking the glory I desire, dear Ramiel – well, suitable compensation.  Suitable compensation.’ 
  
Ramiel nodded.  ‘I understand.’  He then opened a briefcase, handed Daniel an envelope, and Daniel took it from him.  He opened it, noticed it was signed with God’s personal seal, and read the short note. 
  
And then, putting it down, looking out the window, he nodded – satisfied. 
  
He didn’t look at Ramiel, but nodded.  ‘That will be satisfactory.’ 
  
Ramiel smiled.  ‘We will take you in a while – a few hundred years.  Complete your business, and treat Israel with some respect for now.  For your reward they will require a gentle leaving from yourself.’ 
‘I understand,’ responded Daniel. 
  
Ramiel stood, bowed, and departed. 
  
Danny watched him go, looked again out at the hospital, and suddenly was in the mood for a pizza. 
  
Things were good.  Things were looking good. 
  
And the facts of life remained true, no matter what some may object to – no matter what some may say. 
  
  
The End

Michael – Dungeons and Dragons 
  
35,999 SC 
  
Michael examined the bullet wound.  It was from a gun he did not know of.  That much he was certain of.  But, heck, it was a bloody large universe and there were all sorts of firearms out there.  Of course it didn’t make his job any easier.  In no way easier at all.  Stationed on New Mercury for the last 307 years, God had provoked him to action.  Saruviel had been acting responsibly.  Taking on man’s work.  Risking his life for others – doing the real hard work in protecting society.  Michael had no choice but to take it on as well.  In fact, God had been expecting it of him for a while. 
  
‘It is all about Dungeons and Dragons, Michael.  All about Dungeons and Dragons’  ‘The game, you mean?’  Scaradel of the Cherubim of Eternity smiled at him.  ‘Not quite that obvious, bro.  We have a dragon on the loose.  Of that much I am certain.  And from a recent report from Televon, it looks as if the Dragon’s are busy at the moment.  Quite busy.  Saruviel has had his hands full.  Daxran had turned evil again.  Killed 9 people, before Saruviel managed to top him.  And now it looks as if the Dragon’s have chosen New Mercury for their next killing spree.’  Michael nodded.  That was not unlike the underworld.  That was not unlike them at all.  ‘And the dungeons?  How does that figure in?’  Scaradel smiled.  He had been a cop on New Mercury for a while now.  He knew a thing or to.’  The bullet hole.  I know the bullet.  It is from a Santron gun – a rare make.  I have come across one before in my time.  And it was used by a Dragon.  The thing is the Dragon’s store their guns in Dungeons, along with the rest of their supplies.  Call it ancient tradition, but Dungeons suit dragons.  They think it is cool.’  Michael nodded.  That much sounded true.  ‘So what do we do next?’  Scaradel grinned.  ‘I thought that would be obvious?  I mean, there are only so many dungeons on New Mercury.  While the super cities go upwards forever, the planet base is quite small and fits only so many dungeons.  So we go adventuring, Michael.  Oh, and bring your sword and shield.  We will need them.’  Michael grinned.  He liked a good adventure. 
  
*   *   *   *   * 
  
This particular dragon was Reznak.  Another of the Oraphim once in league with Satan and the Saruvim.  And Reznak, while not as smart as Daxran, was just as deadly.  The thrill of the chase was one thing, but when they had cornered him in his lair on the outskirts of Valluna, New Mercury’s second biggest city, they entered the dungeon of dread with great care.  Funnily enough, Michael had his sword.  A short dagger belted to his waste.  And, of course, he carried his cops shield.  He really was a fighting warrior. 
  
A hideous laugh greeted them in the lair.  ‘I see you,’ said a voice over the intercom.  ‘Are you ready?  Let’s play.’  A grenade was then thrown, just landing in front of them.  Michael and Scaradel jumped to the side just in time as it exploded, spreading shrapnel form a parked jeep everywhere.  Some of it hit Michael’s legs, and the pain shocked him.  But he would heal.  He always did.  Michael signaled for Scaradel to take one side of the lair.  And he, having spotted the walkway up above, silently climbed a ladder to overlook the situation.  He positioned himself halfway along the cave wall and waited.  Silently he waited.  He noticed Scaradel gradually moving through the maze of vehicles and equipment when Reznak jumped him, shooting him in the shoulder.  Michael was quick.  With one clear shot he took it and marked Reznak in the centre of his chest, the dragon collapsing instantly.’ 
  
He scurried down and carefully approached.  Scaradel was breathing hard, but motioned him to check on Reznak.  Michael looked at the fallen figure, and presumed him dead.  But as he was about to move the body Reznak jumped at him and plunged a dagger into his side.  The pain sent shudders through his body.  It was agonizing.  Totally agonizing.  But despite the worst pain of his life, he held the dagger in place, grabbed his own with his right hand, and plunged it into Reznaks back.  Reznak screamed, looked dreadingly into Michael’s eyes for one last fleeting moment, and collapsed dead on the ground. 
  
Later on that week Michael had been released early from hospital.  He had healed, to a degree, and could get back on his feet.  But the flesh would take some time to repair properly.  And then a scar for a few hundred years.  Something to write home to Elenniel about, he thought. 
  
He felt, then, in those few weeks, like a man.  Perhaps it was bravado.  Perhaps it was dumb courage.  But in putting his life on the line and paying a price for it he felt as if perhaps, just perhaps, he was making his father proud of him.  And it felt good in its dumb manly way.  It actually felt alright. 
  

Ambriel – Supercop 
  
36,002 SC 
  
The bullet had just missed his head.  But Supercop, as always, kept his cool.  His cool demeanour, known by everyone, earning him the tag Supercop.  Mild mannered David Rothchild, they all called him.  And he chuckled at the comment.  He peered out over the car, noticing were the Dragon was stationed.  It was down to them two, stuck in a Dragon’s lair, fighting for his life.  But Supercop, so all the Dragon’s knew, was practically invincible.  Always a trick up his sleeve.  He undid his coat, and let his wings come loose.  He would use flight, right now.  A tactic seldom employed by any of the angels, almost as a tribute of honour towards their human cop counterparts.  But they did fly, occasionally.  When the situation warranted it. 
  
He flew to the edge of the lair, over on the right hand side.  And then he pulled out a small smoke bomb and hurled it in the direction he knew the Dragon was waiting.  And then, flying around the Dragon, doing a loop to his opposite side, the smoke started clearing and Supercop was behind him.  He landed, tapped him on the shoulder, and the Dragon turned.  He was about to go for his gun and blow David away when David let out a quick punch right between the eyes, and the Dragon fell to the ground. 
‘Well done Supercop,’ David said to himself. 
  
*   *   *   *   * 
  
They’d had a good few weeks.  119 Dragons arrested in the local area, all awaiting the fateful day on death row.  It was gruesome business Ambriel thought to himself, sentencing a soul to Sheol.  But such was the penalty.  An ancient Noahide law he had known once, and part of his own Israelite Torah as well.  And he understood why.  He understood that if they let the Dragon’s, once they had killed, get away – well then they would never stop killing.  And bloodshed required vengeance.  That was God’s holy law. 
  
He thought of the war with Dragon’s this past few years.  It had made him strong.  So much stronger than he had ever been.  For he had confronted fears greater than he had ever known.  The fears of very death itself.  But, like his brother Daniel, he had remained calm under pressure.  He took the job seriously, applying his knowledge and skill as best he could.  And, from all the commendations, New Jersey was eternally grateful.  And he knew he was doing the right thing because of it. 
  
He thought on his current girlfriend.  Cherubim from eternity who he had been his first real romance after Meludiel.  She was really one of his closest confidantes and she understood when Meludiel was around to make herself scarce.  But David loved her anyway.  She was a friend when he needed her to be there, and as much as he once hated to acknowledge the point, actually having a break from Meludiel from time to time, despite his enormous love for her, actually seemed to make sense.  You just couldn’t, in the end, be surrounded by the same person indefinitely.  It just couldn’t work.  You needed time apart.  To see other people, to make other friends, to have other lovers.  And while Ambriel prized fidelity perhaps higher than any other soul, it was the wisdom his brother Valandriel so often expressed which seemed to remain the very truth in the real world.  ‘Such is life,’ God said to him once on the subject.  ‘Rules guide us, dear son.  But reality will always have its say.’  And that consoled Ambriel somewhat. 
  
It was hard work, now, in the life of David Rothchild.  The hardest he had been involved with.  The war with the Dragon’s kept him up at nights.  But looking into the eternal destiny before him he seemed to instinctively understand that God would not have it any other way.  Really, in the end, he would have it no other way. 


  
  
“David” 
  
Solomon looked at David.  “That is you, isn’t it Dad?” 
The ancient Israelite King, sitting on the rock outcropping near the river Samaraday on the planet Kazarma, way beyond the outer colonies, looked at Solomon.  “50,000 years.  It’s been that long.  So how did you find me?” 
“Bathsheba finally squealed.  She can only keep a secret so long I think.  Anyway, you’re missed now.  A few people have been hassling me for a while, especially Adam.  Wants to know were the bloody king is.” 
“I have been on a sabbatical, young Shlomo.” 
“A 50,000 year sabbatical?” 
“It takes a little time to understand life, Son.” 
“You’re talking out of your arse, KD.” 
“Is that a new proverb?” 
Solomon couldn’t help but grin. 
“Well you have found me now.  I’ll try harder next time.” 
“Come on old fella,” responded the wise one.  “Let’s go home.” 


“Jesus” 
  
He sat on the edge of the field, looking at the white men.  The game was close.  8 down, 17 runs to win.  A wicket fell.  Paul Saberton walked over to Jesus and said, ‘You’re a number 11.  You can’t bat for crap.  But you only live once.  So have a go.”  Jesus nodded. 
            He was on 5 runs.  All quick singles and the team needed 4 to win off the last ball and he was on strike.  He was bloody nervous.  Warne came into bowl and the number 11 for Israel said to himself “It’s now or never.” 
            Warne watched as the ball just trickled over the rope.  The umpire made the ‘4’ signal.  Israel won its first test ever against Australia.  And Jesus, for the first time in his new life said “FUCK!”. 
  

“Zelzaon and the Death of an Ancient Evil” 
  
Jesus looked at the vial.  ‘The best drug stimulant ever, you say?’ 
‘It is wicked, Yesh.  Totally wicked,’ responded Zelzazon. 
Jesus drank the lot. 
  
*   *   *   *   * 
  
47 years training in a Rabbinic Theological school in the Realm of Splendour had taught Professor Zelzaon one simple fact.  Jesus was the enemy of God – as plain and as simple as that.  And so, having concluded that his judgement was sound and complete, he devised his drug of ultimate destruction carefully, after long hours of research, and managed to, through his charming deceptions, ensure the Christ Child partook of his final elixir of hedonism. 
  
*   *   *   *   * 
  
The Apostle Paul shrugged it off at first but, eventually conceding that Peter really didn’t want the job, finally accepted his role at the head of the reformed church of Almighty God.  The gospel was gone now, dead.  Dead with the final fate of its propagator, Jesus of Nazareth who, in the words of Zelzazon, had finally fulfilled the role of Lucifer from the prophets, in his obligation to fulfil all the principles of the Old Testament, in accordance with Jesus very own teaching on the subject, and had thusly assured the Apostle that Jesus had tasted death, gone down to the pit were he had remained in excruciating agony for a number of hours, and then tasted ultimate oblivion.  And now, which God had confirmed to him, after his visit to a throneroom, Jesus was gone forever.  Completely and utterly destroyed. 
  
And so Paul, accepting his role as head teacher of the reformed church of Almighty God, teaching a far more sane approach to spiritual living, based primarily on the virtues of life and being kind, loving and decent to others, got to work in establishing the church and calming down the hearts which had cried bitterly over the final death of their saviour. 
  
  
‘The Solstice Tree’ 
  
Paul looked at Peter.  ‘What the Fugg are we going to do about Christmas, then.’  Peter looked momentarily stumped.  ‘Shit.  Umm.  Let me think.’  And as Satan stood there thinking, inspiration suddenly came to him.  ‘Fugg it.  It was a pagan celebration anyway.  Let’s go back to the original name.  Winter solstice.  We can call it the yearly Solstice celebration.  Besides, as those Havenites constantly maintain, the solstices are the natural celebrations of the natural calendar, as Genesis 1 maintains.  So it shouldn’t be a problem.  It’ll be fine.’ 
Paul nodded.  ‘Sounds good.  Hey, I have an idea.  The Solstice Tree.  We can call it the Solstice Tree.’ 
‘An easy switch, huh?’ 
‘Should be.  It’ll catch on quick.  Oh, and Santa Claus is very flexible these days.  Him and all his elves are very up to date with the latest trends.  Their work shouldn’t be impacted at all.’ 
‘Sounds cool.’ 
‘And we can call it Solstice cake and Solstice carols and, well, I think you get the idea.’ 
‘Cool.  Let’s get to work.’ 
'Okely Dokely' 
“The Facts of Life 2” 
  
Jesus sat at the pond, fishing, a pastime he was well used to.  Sitting next to him Ambriel had a question.  ‘But, you know.  I mean, you know.  The torah.’  Jesus smiled.  ‘Uh, yeh, your point?’  ‘It’s God’s glory?’ 
  
Jesus stood as the line had just tensed up and reeled in a fish.  Jesus was good at catching fish.  Very good at it.  ‘Did you ever read Isaiah?’ asked Jesus to Ambriel.  Ambriel nodded.  ‘Many times,’ he responded.  ‘So who will God share his glory with,’ asked Jesus of Nazareth.  Ambriel thought that over.  ‘Well, nobody.’  ‘Exactly, responded the fisher of men.’ 
  
Ambriel sat there for an hour, thinking that over, and then, finally, voiced his opinion.  ‘But you have enormous glory?  I mean, your church is humongous now, and still growing.’  ‘Yeh, and whose glory is that,’ responded the Nazarene.  And then Ambriel looked at him, ready to defeat his opponent, absolutely convinced of himself, when the tiniest, and I mean the tiniest, little cog clicked over in the mind of the son of the Rothchild clan.  ‘Ooohhh.  You got your own glory, then.’  ‘Your learning.  Well done.’  Ambriel then brought to mind the gospel, going over it.  While Jesus quoted Torah from time to time, it was only a small amount and usually with his own slant or interpretation on it.  And there was tonnes of original Jesus material anyway, all his own effort and own glory.  And then he looked at him, and finally got cross.  ‘You bastard.  You complete and utter Fugging bastard.  Your Fugging legit.’  ‘Don’t tell Israel, okely dokely.  I mean if those daft old sods really knew what material they had available to them and the potential influence and glory they could obtain they would finally get over their age long malaise and really get stuck in.  But they old, stuck in their ways.  Read Torah – grow beard.  That is rabbinic wisdom, kapiche?’  As Ambriel sat there, suddenly happy, a little angel whispered to him that Ambriel had been a nice guy for a long time and that he deserved a few key ideas on life.  Jesus looked at him.  ‘You have potential, kid.  Much potential.  That love stuff you have really got going for you.  So learn the rules, get a bit of passion, stick to your guns, make it damn interesting, and watch the fanbase get bigger every year.  Especially after the first thousand years of growth.  Ambriel nodded.  ‘So what will you teach?’ asked the Nazarene.  ‘Oh, I have a few ideas,’ responded Mr Rothchild.  About 50 psalms are written and I think I will start with them.  And then, perhaps, about a book of proverbs the size of Solomon’s.’  ‘That should about do it,’ responded Yeshua.  ‘And the Assembly name?’  ‘Children of Noah Fellowship.  Mostly noahide teaching from the bible, using the standard Rainbow Bible, and then my psalms and proverbs.  Ambriel’s very own special and beautiful perspective on religion.’  ‘You’ll win trillions,’ responded Joseph’s son.  ‘I hope so,’ responded the son of Israel. 



  
Ambriel’s Day Off 
  
Ambriel had lost a wager with Daniel, and was agreeing to work at one of Daniel’s fast food outlets for free for a few years. Of course, Danny came in regularly, said his work, despite Ambriel’s majestic efforts at cleanliness, routine, and procedure, was always substandard and only fit for the devil. And, thus, rebuked Ambriel in front of the whole staff constantly, saying, with a large smirk on his face, whatever you do, staff, don’t end up like this Schmuk. Ambriel took it on the chin. 
  
Ambriel, having worked 17 weeks without a break, had qualified for leave after completing his 15th week, and had applied to the manager for a day off, which his manager, who actually acknowledged Ambriel’s superlative work, agreed to. 
  
And so Ambriel, happy with his day off, came into work anyway, sat on one of the seats of the fast food franchise, drinking coke and eating fries for most of the morning, very happy when Daniel finally showed up for a regular inspection. 
  
‘Who’s the Schmuk?’ Daniel asked the manager, in reference to Ambriel who was sitting there pleasantly, eating his fries, smiling at everyone. 
‘Uh. He’s a customer I guess,’ responded the manager. 
‘Right,’ said Daniel. 
  
He came over, sat down on a seat opposite Ambriel and spoke up. ‘We always value good customers, here at ‘Golden Fries and Burgers.’ Have you heard about our loyalty scheme?’ 
‘Nope,’ said Ambriel, munching on his fries. 
  
‘Well, you are issued with a keycard, and you use it every time you shop with us. There are greater and greater rewards for the more items you purchase. You could even afford a holiday to New Terra – eventually – if you shop with us long enough.’ 
‘Sounds interesting,’ said Ambriel, continuing with his fries. 
  
‘Mmm.’ Said Daniel. ‘I like the cut of your jib, fella. Tell me, are you employed anywhere? Golden fries and burgers could use a man like you.’ 
‘I get by,’ responded Ambriel, who was starting to laugh a little. 
  
‘Right. Well, if you ever need some work, remember, ‘Golden Fries and Burger’s’. We are always looking for competent staff like you seem to be capable of being.’ 
‘I’ll remember that,’ said Ambriel, a big grin on his face. 
  
  
Later on that day, Daniel having given Ambriel a number of free meals during the day, Ambriel finally made his way home, full, and burping a lot. It had been a good day off. 
  
  
  
The following day at work, Daniel showed up unexpectedly, and there was a staff meeting. He looked at Ambriel. ‘There’s the Schmuk,’ he said. ‘Now who on earth would give a fella like you a job? Hey staff.’ They all said nothing. ‘I mean, you would have to be a complete idiot to offer this kind of fella a job. I mean, probably makes fowl smelling fries, and the burgers he cooks you would probably puke on.’ All the time Daniel was shaking his head while smiling, looking at Ambriel. 
  
At the end of the day, when his shift was over, Daniel came over to Ambriel and smiled. ‘Good work today, Amby Wamby,’ he said. ‘You really are a fine employee.’ 
  
Ambriel finally cracked. ‘You know, Daniel. Your… Your…. Your…’ 
‘Yes,’ said Daniel, with a big grin on his face.’ 
‘Your despicable,’ said Ambriel, and Daniel only grinned the more. 
  
The End 
  
  
Michael 2 
  
Chapter One 
  
The dark lord Saruviel redressed the crowd, with powerful words. 
‘No, friends. Michael is not thick. He is not stupid. He is not dumb. No matter how many times my friend Satan suggests as such, I defend my older brother’s honour. Michael is a decent and holy angel.’ 
The crowd of devil worshippers were smirking – some were laughing – dioesque devil symbols with the hands were being made. Saruviel was in heaven – literally. 
  
‘Of course, he is far from bright, either. I suppose, in truth, of adequate intellect. Perhaps.’ 
  
Satan came on, and the clapping was intense as the lord of darkness took centre stage. 
  
  
  
  
Down the back sat Archangel Michael, who had slipped in unobserved to the forum on ‘Michael the Seraphim of Eternity – Is he really an idiot?’ sponsored by the darkest of Lord’s, Satan himself. He had caught most of Saruviel’s sermon, and was now ready for Satan’s exposition of dark wisdom. 
  
  
Satan glared at the audience, who only clapped the more. 
  
‘Michael, despite my dear brother Saruviel’s obvious affection for his older brother, is an idiot.’ 
The crowd cheered. 
‘He is thick!’ exclaimed Satan. 
The crowd cheered more. 
‘He is stupid!’ exclaimed Satan once more. 
The crowd cheered again. 
  
And for the next 15 minutes Satan let off insult after insult describing the absolute abysmal character of one of God’s dearest children. And then someone in the crowd spotted Michael. Boos were quite horrible, but Michael took it. 
  
Satan glared at him. ‘Dear, dear Michael. Come, let us hear you speak. Defend your honour, oh child of the Most High God.’ 
  
The boos were intense. 
  
Michael, unafraid, came forward, and looked at the audience who, after much booing, finally calmed down. 
  
‘I am sure those who love the dark have always opposed those who represent the truth. It is there nature. Yet the truth shines, as does the love and mercy of God. And no force, no matter how dismal, can ultimately prevail against it. Thank you.’ 
  
The boos started up again, and Satan took the stand. 
  
‘An, how shall I put it. An ADEQUATE speech, dear Michael. Dear, dear Michael,’ he said with a glare of pure mockery. 
  
  
  
Michael disappeared after that, back to Zaphora, far enough away from the mockery of the evil ones. 
  
  
Chapter Two 
  
‘Thanks Saruviel. You are all heart,’ commented Michael sarcastically. 
  
‘Did you notice Kantriel and Daraqel over the other side of the audience. And the usual entourage.’ 
Michael nodded. 
  
‘So don’t say we weren’t there to protect you, ok brother. I knew you were coming. The theophany told me. I arranged it with Kantriel and Daraqel and a few others to make sure nothing silly happened. 
  
Michael softened. ‘Really, Saruviel? Really?’ 
‘Ask God.’ 
  
* * * * * 
  
In the throneroom of Zaphon Michael was waiting. He had been there for about an hour and had asked God if Saruviel was really there, at the Assembly of Evil, to watch over himself. 
  
Finally God spoke. 
  
‘YES.’ 
  
And Michael let some of his agro against Saruviel go from that point onwards. 
  
  
Chapter Three 
  
Samael of heaven, thoughtfully listened to Michael’s objections. 
‘You started it Sammy. Your promised repentance is supposed to mean something, isn’t it.’ 
  
Samael of heaven, putting the bird seed for his canary down, sat down next to Michael. 
  
‘You misunderstand Satan, dear Michael. You always have done. He is supremely proud and arrogant, but that is all. He will mock you, and deride you, and have a go at you if he has the powerbase. But it is not really, any more, just for the heck of being a bad boy. He just doesn’t like God that much. He never really appreciated his casting away from the Realm of Infinity. But, despite the evil machinations he puts on, there is a heart inside there, there is a truth, which will ultimately relent and acknowledge points of fact – points of truth, that you claim embellish morality as well. If you prove your case, he will slowly listen. But don’t expect miracles.’ 
  
‘And you, Sammy? Your motivations.’ 
  
‘I was never, really, understood. I did then, and still do, love quite a bit. I have a sarcastic side, one which I do know can get well out of hand, but nothing more. I keep it in check in this sentence of repentance. You need not worry about me for some time – I am a man of honour.’ 
  
Michael nodded. That much was proving the case so far. 
  
‘Satan doesn’t intend to destroy you forever, Michael. Who would he oppose – for kicks – in the end. Do you understand? He is just, how shall I put it, still in a youthful rebellious phase. Even he will acknowledge to you, in the end, he will eventually get over it. Eventually.’ 
  
Michael looked at Samael of heaven, not really sure if he should believe his words, but thanked him and left. He’d heard enough. 
  
  
Chapter Four 
  
‘So I shouldn’t be patient, son? You have known the mercies of God, haven’t you?’ 
Michael said nothing. 
  
The theophany looked at him softly, and made a move in the game of chess. They were at home, and Michael felt better. 
  
‘Don’t fear, Michael. Satan can’t conquer you. He is not strong enough. Besides, I grant eternity to those good of heart, regardless. The testing is never more than they can bear, if they continue to choose goodness.’ 
  
‘It isn’t?’ exclaimed Michael. 
  
‘No,’ responded God. And that was the end of the matter. 
  
The End 
  

Ambriel and the Amazing Fiona MacIntosh 
  
Fiona looked at herself in the mirror.  Was she pretty enough?  Certainly, she wasn't exactly a plain Jane, but she was no supermodel.  She was formal enough, usually a little shy, and certainly no party goer.  Ambriel seemed perfect for her.  Of course, he was David.  But their custom, those angels who had been on earth, was usually to use their angelic name in the angelic realms, such as the realm of eternity, and to use their human identities in the human planetary worlds.  And while she had never been to earth, an ancestor of her's obviously had.  She was a MacIntosh after all.  It was a few hundred thousand years back, her father had said.  A grumpy old bugger.  Nathaniel MacIntosh.  He dropped round once.  He had gotten lucky with an angel.  We were born from that union.  We got access rights to inner discs more easily, because of it.  Fiona thought on her father's words.  It was an undeniable part of her.  Her human identity.  Fiona herself, though, after so many generations since, was mostly angelic.  But her wings were latent.  Too many human genes in her.  They had never shone forth, no matter how much she prayed.  But no bother.  She was an angel regardless.  And she was sure Ambriel wouldn't hold it against her. 
'Are you a plain Jane?' she asked her reflection.  It just smiled back at her. 
  
Work was slow that day.  It was the day after the sabbath, and people were mostly back at work.  But Melladon was coming up, and work would be busy as usual that day.  But Melladon had always been like that.  A busy time.  And even Galadon, the following day, was usually pretty hectic at Golden Fries and Burgers.  But as the month passed, things gradually got back to normal, and by week 7 things seemed to almost grind to a halt.  Pentecost, the last day of the month, was usually a low key affair, and Golden Fries was often closed that day for professional cleaners to do the works in tidying up the place quite a bit more than the regular staff.  The fat was changed in the fries those days, and everything looked and smelled a lot cleaner the following Melladon.  Daniel's policy, she surmised. 
  
They'd had their last customer at lunch time, and no matter how many times she swept the floor or wiped the counter, following company policy to always be doing something, she was bored.  She looked over at Ambriel, snoozing, half an hour till his final half hour shift.  She may as well. 
She sat down, sipped on her afternoon soft drink she was entitled to, and looked at Ambriel.  Shortly he gathered himself and looked at her. 
'Ambriel.  Do you think I'm pretty?  Be honest ok,' she asked him. 
Ambriel looked at her, cocked his head momentarily, and she collapsed her head to the table.  'I'm hideous,' she said, moaning away. 
Ambriel was beside himself.  'Fiona.  You're not hideous, ok.  Trust me on that.' 
She stopped sobbing somewhat, and looked up at him.  'Then what am I?' she asked him. 
'Fiona!  You're, you're....' he said. 
'Yes?' she asked, anxiously awaiting his answer. 
He took her hands.  'You're amazing, sweetie.  Trust me.  You're amazing.' 
'Oh, Ambriel,' she cried out.  She came around and hugged him.  'You're wonderful, David,  You know.  Wonderful.' 
Ambriel breathed a little easier. 
  
'Do you want to meet my parent's?' she asked him instantly. 
'Uh, sure.  Whatever,' said Ambriel, trying his best to shield his reluctance. 
'Dad really wants to meet you,' she said. 
'Right,' said Ambriel, putting on a brave face. 
And as she continued on excitedly, Ambriel knew where the girl was planning to go with their relationship in her mind, but for now he would leave things be.  Let the amazing Fiona MacIntosh dream her dreams. 
  
'You're wonderful,' she said again, and babbled away as the afternoon passed, and another day in the life of Golden Fries and Burgers came and went, the larger world none the wiser to the dreams and schemes of Golden Fries and Burgers employee Fiona MacIntosh and the slight concerns of Ambriel the Seraphim.  The larger world none the wiser. 
  
The End 
  
  
Fiona MacIntosh and the Time of her Life 
Cherubim Cyril was overseer, it was a good time in the Realm, and Ambriel had a love interest. 
'Come on, sweetie.  Let's go.'  Ambriel took Fiona's hand as they exited his new corvette, and they came out onto the beach, he put out his rug, and they looked over the waves of the blue ocean. 
'It's beautiful,' said Fiona. 
'Just like you,' replied Ambriel. 
They were on the beach a few hours, enjoying the afternoon sun, and when night rolled around he took her a walk up along to the fair in the nearby town.  They sat in the ferris wheel and looked out over the ocean at the special buoy lights which were part of the attraction of this particular town, and Ambriel held her hand all the while. 
'I like you a lot, Fiona.  And I have something for you when we get back to the hotel.'  She smiled and smiled and smiled the rest of the night. 
They dined at Fabio's seafood restaurant, and he toasted her good looks, which she blushed at, and they ate fine fare, and she loved him ever more so. 
  
And then, back in the hotel room, he sat down next to her and brought out the ring. 
'You are kidding aren't you?' asked Fiona in unbelief.  'You want to marry me?' 
And then Ambriel came clean.  'It's a friendship ring, Fiona.  Nothing more than that.  What I wanted to say to you all along, but couldn't find the time, was that I really like you as a person, and would be happy to have you be part of my eternal friendship list.  I keep a careful one, you see.  But its nothing more than that, ok.  Nothing more than that.  I have good friendships - loyal friendships - TRUSTED friendships, with a number of girls, not that many in the end.  We marry from time to time and it is an understood pattern of relationships.  But I am not looking to add to that list.  Ok.  It is a complete thing.  My heart will only love in that way once or twice extremely seriously, and my heart has finished its choices.  I am old, now, you know.  So this ring,' he said to the girl, who was teary eyed now, 'is an eternal friendship ring.  Here, let me put it on you.'  He slid it on her finger. 
'It's beautiful.'  She looked at him.  'I love you, David.  I fell in love with you very quickly.  But....if this is what you want.' 
'Its just the way it is,' he said, caressing her head. 
'I understand,' she said. 
  
And then David stood, smiled at her, and left the hotel room.  And while Fiona MacIntosh had had the time of her life, she sobbed for quite some time, before, finally, going out to the balcony, looking out over the ocean, holding her ring carefully in her hand, and said to God.  'The one that got away, huh?  Maybe next time, father.  Maybe next time.' 
And a little spirit said to her heart, 'everything will be ok in the end, Fiona MacIntosh.  Everything will be ok in the end.' 
And those thoughts comforted her, and she went inside, ordered a massive amount of room service, and gorged on pork ribs and pizza all night, watching Twilight movies, and falling in love with Robert Pattinson one last time. 
The End