by Donovan Neal
Apollyon looked past the fields to the mountain of God. The massive home of El stood and towered over the whole of Jerusalem. God’s palace rested upon the top; the mountain itself served as the foundation and chief cornerstone of the immense structure. None could set foot on the mountain of God, for it was the home of El. None approached it, and each Elohim held an instinct to avoid the mountain. Those among Apollyon’s kind who ventured too close had found themselves ill and suddenly surrounded by the Ophanim who escorted them quickly away from the vicinity. It was said that the Ophanim at El’s command would destroy anyone who dared breached the temple without permission to enter, assuming that one would have first escaped the Seraphim who guarded the entrance to El’s throne.
Looking across the Elysian Fields, Apollyon could see the Cliffs of Argoth, a cropping of rock that protruded and overlooked the capital.
Argoth, an Elohim of illustrious renown and mystery was an angel of prophetic praise. Legend says that when the Lord created him, Argoth looked upon his maker for the first time and was so stunned, so overwhelmed and so awed by his beauty that he became as a man in a deep trance or a waking slumber.
Argoth then walked to the edge of the mountain of the Lord, looked out over the expanse of the Kingdom of Heaven, and proclaimed,
"The LORD, The LORD God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness and truth Keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children and upon the children's children, unto the third and to the fourth generation."
After this proclamation, the Lord said to him, “For nothing is secret that shall not be made manifest; neither anything hid that shall not be known.” El immediately silenced him, and the cliffs muzzled from echoing what Argoth had uttered. The cliffs are the only place of permanent silence in Heaven. The cliffs have come to represent a place where secrets are uttered. Afterward, Argoth became a Grigori with an unusual assignment: he now stands mute within the Great Library, his stylus and inkhorn yet to record
Next to the cliffs was a massive cave-like furnace called the Kiln: the place where the ‘Stones of Fire’ lay and where new Elohim came into existence. It has fired without ceasing since before Apollyon’s own creation, a never-ending womb that breeds the host of Elohim who administer the affairs of Heaven and Earth. Only El and the Chief Prince may enter the Kiln.
Apollyon turned down one of the gold laden streets to walk past the living quarters of his deceased friend Saesheal. He turned the door to enter and quietly closed the door behind him. Apollyon walked carefully as if he were stepping over a sleeping patron. Apollyon viewed the flowers picked from the grounds of Heaven: colorful plants that responded to one's touch. Each petal hummed in a quiet melody and emitted a tiny iridescent light. A table with flatware adorned the dining room. Tapestries, linens, chairs, tomes, Apollyon slowly realized how much Saesheal’s quarters were highly decorated: so unlike his own.
Apollyon had never found the need for such trivial things. His function was to serve. There was little need for beds, flowers, or living creatures to accompany his solace in his moments of rest. Saesheal, however, was not so. There were volumes of books on his shelves, the record of the commands given to the Elohim upon their exit from the Kiln. The Grigori have created a library within the capital that provides public access to the records of the ever-expanding creation. Each record displayed was either projected as an image or stored in written form. Apollyon noticed that Saesheal had spent time studying his assignment of Luna. Records of Luna’s creation and instructions to its oversight littered the table of Saesheal’s dwelling.
Apollyon’s heart saddened as he walked the room, reminded of the many days of laughter Saesheal and he shared within. The mirth that Saesheal and he enjoyed usually came at Apollyon’s expense. Apollyon smiled in remembrance. He would miss those days.
However, a frown found him as he remembered his loss. The absence gnawed at him like a sore. It was a consuming thing this emptiness. Saesheal was closest to him, for they quartered across from each other. Apollyon ached from his loneliness, for none sought to see to his well-being, and none cared for his companionship. Those who would call him brother centered only on his failure. Apollyon missed his friend. He left Saesheal's quarters and turned towards his own home to see one of Lucifer’s attendants knocking on his door.
“Apollyon?” The attendant said.
“Yes. I take it you come with word from Lucifer on my audience?”
“Indeed. He has agreed to speak with you. Be swift, as matters of state require his immediate attention. He only waits for you.”
“Then let us make haste; lead on,” Apollyon said.
Both made for the sky and arched themselves towards the northern part of the city. Lucifer had made his home as close to the mount of God as possible without causing the Ophanim to be irritated. He was also removed far enough from the hustle and bustle of the city to warrant privacy. It did not take long for the two angels to enter into Lucifer’s court. Apollyon followed the lead of his guide, and as they walked up the steps, which lead to the mansion, Apollyon could see from the corner of his eye that Ashtaroth attended.
Warily they eyed each other. Ashtaroth glared at Apollyon from the distance. Their eyes locked in a waltz of mutual disdain. Neither spoke. Apollyon finally turned his gaze when Basus beckoned him to enter a great room.
“Chief Prince Lucifer Draco, I present to your eminence, Apollyon Arelim, Archon of Sol, Son of the Dawn.”
“Thank you Basus. Apollyon please come in.”
Basus left the two alone and slowly closed the door behind him.
“I have urgent business to attend to Apollyon. Basus tells me you have desired an audience with me?”
Apollyon rose from his kneeling position. “Aye, Chief Prince. By your own hand were you sent by El to relay His majesty’s word to his servant.”
“Indeed. I also recall that you wanted to query El as to its meaning,” Lucifer said.
“Yes my Lord. I have also received permission from Lord Talus temporarily to forego my duties until I have entreated the Lord.”
Puzzled, Lucifer looked upon Apollyon. “Continue.”
"After coming from Lord Talus, I sought counsel to request an audience with El. Upon doing so, the Grigori present stated I was not scheduled to see El, nor is there record after the conclusion of the six-day for me to enter his presence.”
“I see — so why trouble me Archon? Submit your entreaties on another occasion. We all must come before his throne at some point.”
“That is my quandary, my Prince. There is no future occasion where I seem to have access to El. It is as if I no longer exist. How can such a thing be possible?”
Lucifer turned away from his guest. His brow scrunched as he pondered Apollyon’s words. He turned back to face him and spoke. “I do not know, yet I muse then that you seek me to intercede on your behalf?”
“Yes, my liege. Thou art the Chief Prince. To company with El and petition him is nothing for one such as you.”
Apollyon bowed in submission.
“Rise and fear not. Your fealty is rewarded Son of the Dawn. All that thou sayest I will do,” said Lucifer.
“I am in your debt, my Prince. Twice now, you have honored me. I have nothing to return your kindness.”
“Nothing is necessary. I consider you a kindred spirit. If El had not assigned you to Sol, I would have you associated with my work on Earth. Perhaps I will still petition for your release into my charge. In the meantime, I must depart for Athor and prepare my work. Reside here within my hall if you wish, and upon my return, I will attend to your request.”
“Thank you, Chief Prince. El’s will be done,” Apollyon said.
“El’s will be done,” replied Lucifer.
Apollyon bowed and slowly backed away from the Chief Prince and closed the door behind him.
Lucifer stared silently for a mo
ment and thought to himself, El’s will be done.
********************
The statue continued to morph slowly into shape. Mesmerized, each of the high princes watched the light and movement of the figure.
“We must find him!” Talus implored.
Sariel looked at Talus and had never before seen his brother speak so anxiously.
“Talus, what is it that plagues you?”
“I looked and looked at the figure; perhaps my own desires caused me to hold back the truth. I know not. What I do know is that this sigil belongs to Apollyon! Of this I am sure.”
Sariel looked at Michael and his brothers.
“Talus did you not say, and can we not see, that this figure who wrestles with Saesheal is not Apollyon? Is it possible that this is an Arelim not yet formed? And if it is Apollyon, what of it? What would you have us do? He has not committed offense short of his own failure to questions El’s goodness.”
“Sariel surely you don’t think that questioning the goodness of God is a trite thing?”
“Nay — yet El himself has the power and means to deal with Apollyon if He sees fit. Was it not He that informed us of his thoughts? If he knew this would he not know if more would be wrong? Was it not the Lord of Heaven and Earth whose hands crafted the figure we gaze upon? And Talus tell me — has El mentioned any assignment, action, or concern about Apollyon that we or anyone else are to pursue: other than the Chief Prince himself? Nay my brother. Do not seek to stir the flame of doubt where none exists.”
Sariel stepped away from the figure and headed down the steps towards the entrance to the city. He paused and turned to speak. “However, I suggest that you find Apollyon. If his Prince concerns himself with his welfare, then Apollyon should be allowed to hear his concerns.”
Jerahmeel turned to speak to his brother. “Sariel is correct. You are his prince. You should find him and talk with him.”
Raphael placed his hand on Talus’ shoulder. “Do not avail yourself to fret. I will scour his tome to see if his watcher has entered anything new that should be brought to the court's attention.”
“I appreciate that Raphael. He is on leave from his duties when last we met. He wanted an audience with El. Therefore, he should still be here. I will begin to look for him. Within the Great Library is a good place to start. Michael, would you assist me?” Talus asked.
“Aye, I also wish to see his sigil for myself. Come, let us go.” Michael said.
********************
Apollyon relaxed in the great hall of the Chief Prince. It was apparent that Lucifer was a connoisseur of beauty. His personal lodging almost rivaled that of Athor. The finest of Elysium tapestries decorated his walls and silks from the Adonis trees draped his windows. The silk was the finest quality and laced with gold, and shimmered. The floors were purple and radiated an orange hue as they glowed. Lapis lazuli was used to grout the diamond tiles on the walls.
Lucifer’s furniture was of Chittim wood. The wood's pores dripped a sap that perfumed the room, and the wooden couch's frame conformed to whoever sat or laid on it. Floral pelts adorned Lucifer’s tables and couches. Books upon books littered his shelves, and various instruments of measurement were strewn about his desk. A plumb line and other devices used to build were nestled in a case. Apollyon traveled upstairs to his bedchamber, and it became apparent to him by the number of hand carved instruments that Lucifer was an adept minstrel and psalmist. In addition, to more books, Cora leaf pages of song after song of handwritten praise and worship lay near his bed. Lucifer seemed to possess a Grigoric record on every aspect of creation.
“Am I disturbing you Archon?”
Apollyon recognized the voice: a voice which last time he had heard it, he held its bearer by the throat. He turned to see Ashtaroth standing in the bedroom doorway.
“I was not aware that the Chief Prince had granted you right to grope through his affairs. Or am I to take it that your being in the masters chamber is due to some infatuation that I know not of?”
Apollyon embarrassed, smiled sheepishly.
“I meant no disrespect to his lordship. I will leave immediately.”
“So once more your actions show a lack of forethought. Yet again, does the Archon display his propensity to waywardness? Be not deceived. I will of a surety bring this to my Lord's attention.” Ashtaroth turned to leave, and Apollyon’s mind was rife with the words of this angel who presumed to be so smug and superior.
“Ever the servant, are you not Astarte?” Apollyon said.
Ashtaroth stopped and turned to face Apollyon. He slowly walked towards him. Fear was not in the nature of an Elohim. Apollyon towered over him, but Ashtaroth did not fear for his safety and spoke.
“Aye, a servant am I. I serve the Chief Prince, the Lightbringer himself. He, who stands in the midst of the Stones of Fire. It was he that held both you and I in the Kiln. Yes, simpleton; I serve him. You, on the other hand, serve only foolishness and carelessness, and you have your reward. You are neither worthy of the title of Archon, and I personally hope…”
Ashtaroth paused to point at the cracked stones that beat within Apollyon’s chest. “El never again seeks to utilize the stone with which caused your creation.”
Apollyon leaped at Ashtaroth to grab him.
Ashtaroth stepped to his side, and Apollyon went flying past him into a desk smashing the desk of soft Chittim wood to pieces.
“You mocked me upon our last encounter Archon. Do not presume that your physical stature impresses me. You caught me unawares before. I will not be so caught in the future.”
Apollyon rose from the floor, kicking the soft legs of the broken desk away from him. “Do not concern yourself with being unaware Astarte. I want you to know that it is I who will pummel you into submission!” Apollyon replied.
Apollyon rose from the floor and heaved the large pieces of the desk from before him. Stray portions flew out the second story window and crashed to the golden streets below.
Startled denizens looked up as two Elohim could be seen grappling with one another. Apollyon and Ashtaroth then broke through the walls to fall from the upper balcony and joined the mangled pieces of wood and brick on the street below. Dozens of onlookers scattered as the entangled bodies of the duo crashed onto the street.
Onlookers watched their mouths agape, as Apollyon grasped Ashtaroth by the throat, and lifted him as he squirmed into the air. Coughing and gagging, Ashtaroth contorted his body and used his tail to wrap itself around a piece of wood lying on the ground, and like a whip smashed it across Apollyon’s face.
Apollyon screamed in pain as the wood broke the soft tissue of his face and bluish liquid oozed from the corner of his lip and cheek.
Ashtaroth did not wait for a response and moved quickly to kick the large angel in the torso knocking him back through the door of a merchant’s store.
Once again wood, stone, and metal gave way, and Apollyon found himself covered in rubble. Slowly, he rose dazed from the debris while vendors scurried to flee.
Ashtaroth laughed, “You called me little angel Archon, yet it is you who sits on his rear in disgrace. Come to me fool, and let us see how buffoonish you truly are!”
Apollyon clenched his fists and his eyes narrowed and enraged, and the power to control a sun welled within him: and one thought alone filled his mind towards Ashtaroth, the angel who had taunted him for so long.
Dissolution.
********************
“What if we do not find him here?" asked Michael.
“Michael my being tells me that we will find Apollyon. I just hope that it is not too late,” said Talus.
“Too late for what?” Michael asked.
“That, my friend is what concerns me. I do not quite know. All that I know is that right now I need to see his sigil.”
“Well, El’s audience chamber is up ahead, so we can inquire shortly as to Apollyon's scheduled time for meeting.”
The two high princes lightly touched down in f
ront of the door to the great chamber. All Elohim nearby bowed in submission, and the two quickly stepped inside the building.
The chief keeper of the hall ran towards the pair and bowed before the two princes.
“Lord Talus — Lord Michael! You honor us by your presence within our halls. Please, please how can we help you?”
“Rise my friend; we are in need of some answers. Have you seen an Arelim by the name of Apolly…”
“Apollyon? Yes, High Prince. He was in here not too long ago and asked about his scheduled meeting with El.”
Talus asked, “Can you tell us when he is scheduled to meet with the Lord?”
“Of course, Prince Talus. There is nothing within our power that we would withhold from you. We cannot remember ever having two from the royal court within our place of business. It would honor us if…”
Michael interrupted, “We are in swift need of this information, Chief Scheduler. Please make haste.”
“Of course, of course, High Prince: Apollyon yes. Let me find his––oh, yes. I distinctly remember our conversation; Apollyon has no scheduled meeting with El––ever.”
Michael and Talus looked curiously at each other and then at the record keeper.
“No meeting? What do you mean ever? You mean he came here and didn’t make an appointment?” Talus asked.
“No, High Prince he came here, but we couldn’t make an appointment. You may see his tome if it pleases you.”
“Show us quickly!” Talus demanded.
The Chief Scheduler turned to the shelving behind his desk, reached, and pulled down a book. He found the entry for Apollyon and turned the tome around for his two patrons to view.
“See Apollyon’s record has no entry after the 6th day. And there is---oh my, this was not like this before.”
