Alizel's Song (Angel Ward Saga Book 1)

by Pottle, Bill

  “Hallelujah!” Verin cried out, voice dripping with sarcasm. “That world so far exceeds ours that I might as well leave home and fly down there!”

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  A L I Z E L ’ S S O N G

  He stood up on the edge of the pool, a slow, smooth grin coming to his face as he looked down on it. He looked around to see if it was safe. No one else was around. “I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt…”

  Before Alizel could stop him, Verin shot up into the air, streamlining his body and raising his green wings for the flap that would propel him into a nosedive across the shining surface of the barrier.

  A golden and platinum streak arced out of nowhere and slammed into Verin’s body as his wings were in mid flap. The streak hurtled him to the ground and pinned him under the golden armor.

  “What do you think you are doing?” the Power bellowed at him. “You know entering the Realm of Matter is forbidden!”

  “How… dare you touch me,” Verin stammered, shaking to get the words out. “I’m a Virtue.” It was true; technically he was more highly ranked than the Power sitting on top of him. “Besides, I thought we were to go there.”

  Azazel’s armor dug into his chest. Verin winced.

  “I bow to no rank. As the guardian of Heaven, I am free to challenge any who dares set foot in the Universe.”

  Alizel cringed for his friend. Of all the angels to run afoul of, Verin had to pick this one. Azazel was not someone to get on your bad side. He was head of the Powers, the group of angels that guarded the borders of Heaven. They all wore armor and red sashes with a platinum “P” emblazoned over their shoulders. With the way that they carried themselves, a piece of cloth denoting their rank was unnecessary.

  Up to this point, Heaven had never been under attack, but apparently they even needed to be protected from themselves.

  “We are to go there,” Azazel informed, although by the tone of his voice it was obvious that he had not bought Verin’s excuse and did not really respect his authority. “But the time is not yet. The world is too young.”

  He still had not relaxed his hold on Verin’s body.

  “Do you have any idea what would happen if you went there now?” Azazel growled.

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  Verin shook his head. “I thought we couldn’t really change that world. Just in the tiniest ways.”

  Azazel’s silver eyes hardened. “It’s too early. Even quantum changes now could throw the entire plan off course.”

  He sat up, finally relaxing his grip on the Virtue. “Do you want that? Do you want to destroy everything God has worked to make?”

  “No… no, sir. I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

  “Be sure that it doesn’t.” Azazel got up and straightened out his robes under his shining armor. “Next time I will not be so forgiving.” Then he was gone, almost as quickly as he had arrived. The gardens were bright, the streams flowed and swirled, and peace was in the air. Except for Verin cowering on the ground next to the pool,

  it was like the whole incident never happened.

  Verin put his palm to the ground and pushed himself up to his knees, visibly shaken. He turned to Alizel and raised his eyes without speaking.

  Azazel had been so fast, so sure. If there ever were any threats, Alizel felt confident with him leading the defense of Heaven. Alizel shrugged. “At least it looks like they got the right angel for the job.”

  Flying high above the majesty of Heaven, Alizel reflected back on how Azazel was responsible for leading the defense of the Realm of Spirit. Only a few angels had jobs. Most were like Alizel, unranked with no profession. It was a bit unsettling at times, wondering about his place. With some of the other orders, everything seemed so clear for them. They knew what they were made for. Alizel had always felt like he had some purpose in life, but just couldn’t figure out what it was. If any of the higher ones knew, they were keeping silent.

  They all answered to the Seraphim, the ‘flaming ones.’ Alizel didn’t see them very often, and didn’t really have any clue what they did. Secretive and powerful, they very rarely spent any time with lower ranking angels at all. There were very few Seraphim and it was impossible to mistake them for any other order. They wore their platinum sashes with a crimson “S” more for pride than for

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  A L I Z E L ’ S S O N G

  identification. Luciferel was the leader of the Seraphim, and by extension leader of all angels. There had been no election or word from God to confirm his leadership, but it just didn’t seem right that it could be any other way.

  The Cherubim were technically next in rank, although sometimes Alizel wondered why they weren’t the highest. They were the most knowledgeable, and some said they completely knew the mind of God. Alizel wasn’t so sure, though. If he ever had a question, they were the ones to go to— if they’d ever agree to talk to him. They seemed genuinely uninterested in the daily life of Heaven and the affairs of its inhabitants. The joke was that it was easy to identify a member of the Cherubim: just look for their white sashes with a golden “C”…and their four faces and wings.

  Following them were the Thrones. Alizel didn’t see much of them either. There were only twelve of them, but Thrones was just a name. He had heard that they had a special task, far above the other angels, but after asking and asking Alizel couldn’t get any closer to it. Mupiel had of course been asking about as well, and no one would tell him either. Their task was a great secret, and Alizel wondered if anyone who was not a Throne knew what it was. At times they looked like the other angels, and at times nothing like them. Sometimes they appeared as two concentric fiery wheels, with eyes everywhere along the rims. Even in a form like the other angels, they still had multiple eyes. Alizel guessed that’s why they always knew so much – they could see everything. The Thrones wore earthy brown sashes with a green “T” and served as instructors to the other angels.

  The fourth order was the Dominions. They never seemed to fit. It was obvious to all that they had some job as they strutted around in their long white albs, purple sashes with a golden “D”, and their golden belts. The huge buckles had strange shapes on them, shapes like nothing seen in Heaven. They were always off doing their own thing—probably trying to find what their purpose was, Alizel reasoned.

  After the Dominions came the Virtues, resplendent in their white albs and golden sashes with a white “V”. They didn’t know what their job was either, but at least they were honest enough to

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  admit it. Verin, of course, was the most impatient to discover his purpose.

  Next were the Powers, with Azazel as their chief. They were the gatekeepers who kept the separation between the worlds fixed. They were always so aloof, standing there in their golden armor and red sashes. Alizel wasn’t ashamed to admit that sometimes the Powers scared him, even more so after the incident with Verin and the Portal.

  The lower angels had three ranks of their own. There were the Principalities, whose job it was to watch over a hundred angels, Archangels who watched over ten, and the majority like Alizel, the Unranked. Principalities wore white sashes with a blue “P” on them, Archangels wore white sashes with a green letter “A”, and the Unranked wore grey sashes with no letter at all.

  Uriel was Alizel’s Principality. Though he watched over a hundred angels, Alizel always felt that he was closer to him than the others. He was like a mentor. No—he was a mentor, at least more than Katel, his Archangel. It wasn’t that Alizel had any problems with Katel, a lithe creature whose purple wings seemed even more colorful next to his short black hair. On the contrary, they had always got along well. It was just that Katel’s indigo eyes always seemed to stop their search just short of something really worth seeing. But was being satisfied with a perfect life really so wrong?

  The ranking of the angels was set in stone from the moment of creation, and Alizel often meditated on the different orders of angels and wha
t it might mean. Why were the Powers, who were so strong, near the bottom? They seemed like the closest to the Seraphim in strength and might. He could understand why the Powers weren’t higher than the Cherubim, but did ranking so low mean that protecting Heaven was unimportant? What jobs did the other angels have? And would they ever learn the secret of the Thrones?

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  A L I Z E L ’ S S O N G

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  CHAPTER TWO:

  THE WEAPON

  Alizel often thought back fondly on those early years. If humans knew of the time angels spent then, their hearts would burst from the pure joy of it. There was unimaginable happiness for billions of years on end. If every tree on Earth was cut down there wouldn’t be enough paper to print the books he could fill with the stories of that time.

  It’s hard to know when anything really began. Things began in the deepest recesses of the soul. But if he was going to try to trace it back, he had to start with one particular event. There was one meeting of the Angelarch that always stood out in Alizel’s mind later.

  Governing was easier than it looked. Angels didn’t have to worry about being provided with food, water, or shelter since their bodies were completely fueled by the radiant energy from the Father. They never had to worry about sleeping, eating, or disease, and contentious debates never occurred because everyone shared everything else.

  The major decisions were made by a meeting of the Angelarch. The entire assembly of Heaven met together in the stadium to gather and debate, sometimes for days. Voting was done by will alone, with respect to each angel’s rank. Each Unranked got one vote and it continued up the hierarchy with each Seraph getting nine. Even though each Unranked only got one vote, there were so many that as a whole they counted more than anyone.

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  The Father didn’t participate in the discussions, although He did maintain veto power over any vote. Angels were all tied directly to His Will, and knew when something was contrary to it.

  There was a memorable meeting shortly after Verin’s attempted trespass. Azazel had summoned it. It was quite bold. Seraphim and Cherubim were the ones that usually called for the meetings, although occasionally a Throne would make a demand to meet. Yet since he was the head of the Powers and in charge of the defense of Heaven, Azazel’s word held a lot of sway. His reputation for being a serious, capable commander who didn’t put up with nonsense added to his influence.

  Angels generally sat by rank, with six sections for the upper six ranks. However, higher ranking angels could sit in the sections reserved for lower ranks if they wished to attend the meetings with their friends. The Cherubim section was usually half empty as they rarely left God’s side. The rest sat in the largest section, organized by the tens and hundreds with Archangels and Principalities sitting among their groups. There was no need for amplified sound. If one wished to address the assembly, he simply stood and began talking in a normal voice and all heard him clearly.

  The stadium was in a “U” shape with the open end facing towards Mt. Zion and the Throne of God, that way the radiant energy of the Father could flow through the meetings and no angel there would turn his back on God. The top section of the stadium made a natural curve along the rim of the “U”. Each raised section was held in the air without the need for any supporting columns or flying buttresses, and the seats were L-shaped blocks of cool white marble which provided back support while letting the angels’ wings hang free.

  “What do you think he’s going to say?” Alizel turned at Abbadon’s voice.

  Abbadon was a Virtue with silver wings and blood-red hair. His features were darker and he wore robes of white and black under the gold sash.

  “Well, I…”

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  “I don’t care,” Verin interrupted from beside Abbadon. “I just wish they would get this meeting started already so we can get back to our business.”

  “You don’t have any business,” Abbadon reminded him curtly. “None of us do. Ten billion years later and we still don’t have a mission.”

  “You’re just nervous to see Azazel,” Abbadon joked. “Worried he might jump on you again.”

  “I’m not afraid of him.” Verin stuck out his chest. A faint shiver passed through his body and fluttered his green wings.

  “I find that hardly convincing,” Abbadon smirked and sat back into his seat, running a hand through his dark hair.

  “Besides, we’re supposed to be afraid of Azazel,” Alizel reminded. “That’s why he’s in charge of protecting us.”

  Verin was about to reply when Azazel himself stood. He looked even more imposing than before, his golden armor polished until it shone radiantly. He was wearing the full formal breastplate, gauntlets, and shin protectors, and carried his crimson-plumed helmet in the crook of his arm so that his blond hair spilled out over his shoulders. His sharp platinum wings unfurled behind him to make him, if possible, even more imposing.

  “Inhabitants of Heaven— noble Seraphim, wise Cherubim, steadfast Thrones, loyal Dominions, pure Virtues, fellow Powers, watchful Principalities, blessed Archangels, and Unranked.” He paused to take a breath after he finished with the full ceremonial list. “You know that from the beginning, my fellow Powers and I have been untiring in our duty of protecting the borders of Heaven.”

  At this a polite clap issued forth from the crowd. The Powers had certainly done well, although there was nothing that could challenge them. Alizel glanced over his shoulder and noticed Verin was the only angel not applauding.

  “We were created for this purpose, and for this purpose alone we owe our existence to Almighty God. We will continue in our duties, without relenting, into the far reaches of eternity!”

  This earned him louder applause, and it was relieving to hear. This certainly wasn’t a reason for calling together the full Angelarch, though.

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  “Yet, we can only protect you to the best of our abilities, with the tools and training we have received. We have undertaken an extensive study into the matter, and I am sad to report that we are missing a vital item.”

  Alizel’s curiosity was piqued. What could he possibly need? “As you are undoubtedly aware,” he continued, “the Universe

  grows more complex by the day. We have already observed self-replicating localized zones of organization that can copy themselves over and over, and as time goes by, their complexity increases.”

  It was quite an exciting day when the angels had first discovered these primitive “cells.” They were quite beautiful, Alizel thought. The planet Earth was the center of this action. Volcanic energy and sunlight caused groups of atoms to stick together in molecular building blocks, some of which had heads that were attracted to water, and tails repelled by it. These blocks arranged themselves in spheres with the heads on the outside. The amazing thing was that there was one molecule, the one humans would come to call RNA, that could both help the membranes organize themselves and help make more molecules like itself.

  The angels didn’t know it at the time, but that was the real turning point.

  Azazel’s voice rose. “Where will it all end? Who knows what these cells may continue to grow into? As molecules have self-organized into cells, what if the cells self-organize into larger organisms? What creatures may evolve on Earth, or other worlds? What if they move to challenge us and come to storm the gates of Heaven?”

  A low murmuring rumbled through the Angelarch. Could it be true? Had God created the Universe as a home for other types of creatures?

  Could Heaven be in danger?

  “Yet these are not the only threats,” he thundered on. “What if Heaven is threatened from within?”

  Everyone fell silent. From within?

  “Already there have been unauthorized attempts to go down to Earth. What if someone intentionally wanted to thwart God’s plan? What if an
angel were to sneak by us, and go to make his own mark on the world?”

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  A howl of protest rose up. “Preposterous!” cried several at once. Alizel looked back at Verin again; his face had paled and he

  slumped deeper into his chair.

  The Power held up his hands in defense. “I do not mean to call the good name of the assembled host into question, or accuse any specific angel. But there are more than a hundred thousand of us. It would be naive not to at least admit the possibility.”