Chapter 41
Year: 3666 BC
“Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”
–JAMES 4:7, ESV
“ R ise, heavenly being, for you are born of my light and the grace of eternity,” Yahweh said to me as I rose from the burning white of His celestial kiln. Everything was so bright that my new eyes could barely make out the shining form of the being that stood before me.
The first face I saw as my vision adjusted to the never-ending expanse of white was the face of God.
“In your essence lies the harmony of the heavens, the fervor of my love, and the might of my sovereignty,” He said, running his thumb down the center of my forehead in what I intuitively knew was a blessing.
“I shall name you Ramel, and you shall be gifted with the task of celestial emissary. Kneel before me, Ramel, and take unto you the holy sacrament of your God and creator.”
God gently pressed His hands into my shoulders and guided me to my knees before Him. He tilted my head up and looked down on me. I felt very young and small beneath the weight of His age. His face changed each time my new eyes managed to focus on Him, making it impossible to describe exactly what He looked like. He was everyone and no one all at once.
My thoughts were slow, and the essence of my being had not yet fully cured when God gently passed His thumb over my freshly molded lips.
“Open to receive me, Ramel, for I am Yahweh, and I will show you the way.”
Blind and trusting in my creator, I opened for Him, taking Him wholly unto me. Tears streamed from my eyes as He praised me for my service.
“My beautiful creation,” He whispered as He spilled His holy sacrament down my throat. “Will you serve your God and savior?” Yahweh asked softly when He was finished.
I swallowed, raised my eyes to the face of God, and nodded.
“I will.”
Yahweh held me as my immortal body cured, and I settled into existence. I clung to Him, afraid and overwhelmed. The brightness of Heaven was jarring. When He forced my wings onto me, the pain was never-ending. My angel form was something I felt I would never get used to. There were too many eyes to see the sins of His mortals and too many wings and limbs that ached when they moved.
“Will it always hurt?” I asked Yahweh, and He smiled at me sagely, running His hand down one of my midnight wings. Mine were black, which I loved in the beginning... It wasn’t until I met the other archangels that I realized black wings were not the norm. I wondered why Yahweh had punished me with individuality.
“The pain reminds us of the repercussions of sin,” Yahweh explained. I didn’t know what sin was, but if it hurt like this, I didn’t want anything to do with it.
“Teach me how not to sin,” I whispered, and that seemed to please Him. He allowed me to resume my other form. The form that He told me was made in the likeness of ‘man.’
“Come, I will show you the way,” Yahweh said, leading me deeper into the blinding white abyss that He told me was Heaven.
I had much to learn about life and Heaven. I was an archangel, one of the highest life forms outside of Yahweh Himself. We were the heralds of God’s glory. His messengers. We were the elite and had a standard to uphold.
Mortals were lesser beings. Bumbling, child-like experiments that Yahweh had created to ensure we were able to continue to power our celestial bodies. He had gifted them with free will, and it was our job to sort the souls of those who followed the light and deny the souls that rebelled against His word.
In addition to the humans, there were animals and plants that also existed in the place Yahweh had called Earth. These souls were even lesser than humans, but they still added up in the grand scheme of things. Even the smallest lives helped to sustain the energy necessary to maintain the lives of Yahweh and His angels.
“It is especially important for you, Ramel, to understand the dangers and temptations of sin,” Yahweh explained to me, His tone grave and His many faces serious.
“You have the important task of acting as an emissary to my counterpart in Hell.”
My body went cold at this. I shivered. I did not want to go to Hell. Hell is where all sin stemmed from. Hell was death and decay and the antithesis of what we stood for.
“Why must we communicate with Hell? Should we not look to eradicate this evil from the world?” I wondered out loud, not understanding why Yahweh would want to build relations with a place filled with such vile creatures.
“Because I have granted the mortals free will, and those who do not pass the criteria necessary for rebirth need somewhere to go. Better to Hell than here with us in Heaven where they might taint the purity of our home.” Yahweh explained, and I nodded. This made sense.
After several weeks of learning the basics, Yahweh informed me it was time to leave His care. I was to be assigned to a choir, and they were to be my brothers and family.
“I do not want to leave you,” I told Yahweh. He was all I knew, and I was saddened and hurt that He would banish me from His side so easily.
“You have served me well these last few weeks, Ramel.” He smiled kindly, rubbing his thumb over my lips as He had so many times since the day of my creation. “It is someone else’s turn to receive the blessing of my affections.”
I nodded, still unsure of what purpose I had if it was not to serve Him.
Yahweh forced me to shift into my angel form, smiling at me kindly as I writhed in pain before Him.
He introduced me to my choir, and I was regarded with cool disdain. They took in my ebony wings and ruffled their pristine, white feathers in revulsion. I felt the harsh burn of shame for the first time as several of them turned away from me.
It wasn’t until my choir’s General appeared that I felt a rush of relief. He, too, had black feathers. His name was Shemhazai.
“This is Ramel. He will be acting as my emissary to Hell. Get him acquainted with the rest of the Watchers,” Yahweh ordered. Shemhazai shifted out of his angel form, his dark hair and tawny skin standing out in stark contrast against his all-white attire. He gave me a cool smile and raised his eyebrow at Yahweh.
“Hell, huh? How come you give all the best jobs to the new kids?” he asked dryly.
Yahweh looked unhappy with Shemhazai’s casual tone, and I resolved never to speak that way myself. I wanted Yahweh to always be happy with me .
“Your path is set, Shemhazai. My word is law,” Yahweh said before leaving me with this strange choir of angels.
The moment Yahweh was gone, Shemhazai rolled his eyes and turned to face me, sliding his hands into his pristine, white pockets.
“Are you going to wear your feathers for eternity? That form is brutal. Switch to your human form when you’re with me. You only have to do all that when Yahweh’s around.”
I hesitated, using my all-seeing eyes to ensure Yahweh wasn’t close by. I was sure He would not appreciate Shemhazai’s callous tongue.
Shemhazai sighed and reached out, running his fingers gently down one of my black wings.
“Ramel, is it? You don’t have to be afraid. You’re safe with me,” he said softly, and for some reason, I trusted this strange angel with his smart mouth.