The door to my small room burst open, slamming against the wall. I looked up from my book to find before my eyes the last person I wanted to see.
He was of a good height, as well as slim. His white robe was insignificant, if only because it was overshadowed by his perfect body. His was the figure imagined by Michelangelo when he created the David. I knew that under that unimportant robe he had the outline of six white wings on that perfectly proportioned back: his wings, hidden in his body for ease of movement. His hair was spun gold, his eyes a perfection of blue unattainable on Earth. They contained the knowledge and experiences of the millennia of time he had lived through. However, at this moment they also contained all the rage built up over the eons. His face, usually above and beyond the cherubic descriptions warranted to him by mortal speech, was contorted in what could only be described as a grimace of fury. I sighed, knowing the lecture that was coming. In fact, I could probably repeat it word for word.
I picked up my book again and continued reading.
“Heil, Gabriel,” I said into my book.
“Don’t ‘Heil, Gabriel’ me! You motley-minded miscreant! What do you think you are doing here?” he shouted.
I looked up again. OK, so maybe I didn’t know what he was going to say.
Gabriel made a visible effort to calm himself. It was almost sad, really. I mean, if you were the son of two of the strongest beings that exist you should at least have some self-control.
“You are supposed to be convincing one Jeffery O’Leary not to commit suicide. It is a routine run to Earth. It is not difficult. All you have to do is get him to stop the knife and send him off to a suicide clinic or hospital. Instead you are here, not doing anything to help our young Jeffery. Every human counts. You know that, Phoenix.”
Yeah, that was the lecture I was talking about. I smiled.
“I don’t think he is worth saving,” I said and looked down into my book. Ahh, the pleasures of reading.
Gabriel snatched the book from me and looked at the title.
“Weapons of Below, eh?” he asked in a threatening tone, “Is this not a book from the Section 5 of the library? And is that not forbidden to everyone except those who ask permission from the person in charge here? Now, who could that be? Hmmm?”
Section 5 is the section on Below. The only reason I was able to get the book was because I’m friends with the head librarian, Taninniver. And I can pick locks. Like Gabriel would give me permission anyway.
“Yes, yes and yes. That would be you, Gabriel, ever since Michael died,” I sighed.
“No!” he shouted, “Michael did not die. He was murdered.”
“Gabriel, love, murder is a way of dying. He is still dead.”
Gabriel stared at me. I smiled as innocently back as an angel such as I could. Then something which had never happened before in our arguments happened: Gabriel smiled back. Oh shit.
“You are to report to Uriel sometime today or tomorrow,” Gabriel smiled at me.
Double shit.
Uriel is one of the three top angels, the other two being Raphael and Gabriel. He presides over The Basements, a place which I had hoped never to see my whole life. It is a place of torture and repentance, a place where you learn your lesson. I have never seen an angel commit another offense after going to Uriel. Just looking at him, you wouldn’t think he was that scary. But, of course, looks are not all there is to a person. He is about my height with this amazing red hair. Humans didn’t accept his name to mean ‘fire of god’ without reason. His hair starts out blue at the roots and fades to red, then orange, then yellow, giving the perfect flame effect to his head. He has yellow eyes with flecks of red that is brought out well by the color of his hair. He is not very muscled; in fact he is on the thin side. His wings are perhaps one of the most interesting wings of all the angels. They match his hair but add a stripe of black at the beginning of the fire. Oh, and by the way, he’s insane. Yes, I mean like psychopathic insane. All angels with mental problems are sent to work in his area. Sociopaths, psychopaths, schizophrenics, you name it. The Basements are not exactly the safest place, nor are they meant to be.
I realized I was staring with horror at Gabriel. He was now grinning, the perfection of his teeth exposed.
“Do you understand me?” he asked smugly.
“Y-y-yes, Gabriel,” I stammered.
He turned and left, not even bothering to close my door. I sat there stunned. OK, just calm down, I thought, we can deal with this later. I’ll go for a walk and then I will be able to make sense of this.
I left my room and closed the door behind me. I strolled down the white marble hallway, hung with paintings and tapestries, broken up by little alcoves where you might sit alone or with friends, talk with others or think to yourself. As I walked I passed several angels. Most wore white robes much like Gabriel’s. But not I. While we were all forbidden to wear any other colors than white, gold and silver, I chose to be unique. Today I had decided my shirt would be a version of a corset, the ribbon lacing silver, the bottom of the shirt edged with lace. I wore white jeans with silver knee-high boots. We can choose the shape our clothes will take. To change outfits, all we have to do is think about what we want it to look like. Much easier than having tons of closets for every single angel, don’t you think?
I strolled past everyone, leaving a wake of whispers behind me. FYI, I don’t have that great of a reputation around here. Jeffery O’Leary was perhaps the thirtieth person I had neglected. And when I didn’t do my job, some other angel had to take care of it, someone who inevitably made their way to my room to give me a lecture or complain about all the problems I was creating for everyone. I briefly wondered who it would be this time.
“Phoenix!” a voice shouted from down the hallway.
All the angels there turned to stare. Sofiel was standing at the end of the hallway. Her beautiful blonde hair cascaded down to her waist, some of it mixing with the lace of her feminine dress. Her light blue eyes, the color of a winter sky, sparkled with goodwill. She smiled at me with her rosebud lips.
“Phoenix! Taninniver wants to talk to you,” she shouted again, although it was not necessary. The hallway was silent, all the angels watching.
I started down the hallway, the angels’ eyes following me. I could feel them boring into my back as I joined Sofiel and we turned the corner.
“Taninniver wants to talk to you,” she repeated.
“I think I got that the first time, when you shouted it down the hallway,” I replied sarcastically.
“You walk too fast for me to catch up without running,” she said quietly.
I looked over at her. She looked at me and smiled tentatively. I had to smile back. No one could understand why Sofiel liked me so much or even talked to me, not even me. She was a good angel, who listened to everyone, liked Gabriel, worked in the gardens, and sang beautifully. Quite frankly, I don’t know why I liked her. Well, there is that one thing… never mind. She has this way about her that is so naïve and young and innocent. I had lost all of that a long time ago, if I even had it in the first place.
We arrived at the door to the library. The doors were a reddish wood, carved into the most intricate of designs. They must have weighed a huge amount, but were hung so well on the hinges that they moved with a breath on their surface. I pushed the left door open and stepped into the library.
The library is a huge dome with seven floors. On the seventh floor (aka Section 5) is all the forbidden materials, on Below and secret spells and the like. The rest of the floors are public, the third one being simply a reading room. Sofiel and I walked over the white marble to the librarian’s desk. Zagzagel was sitting there reading a book on French. Zagzagel is the teacher of younger angels on general knowledge, such as history, human nature, and the jobs that we can fill. He looked up as we approached. He smiled at Sofiel, but when he turned to me I could see the disappointment in his eyes. I had been one of his favorite students, mostly because I had asked questions that the others would never think of. Instead of being a scholar, like he had hoped I would be, I was in the army, didn’t complete my obligations, and disobeyed the rules. You can see the letdown there.
“Heil Sofiel, Phoenix,” he greeted us, “Taninniver is in his office.”
“Thanks,” we replied in unison.
We meandered over to Taninniver’s office door. Sofiel went to knock. I just shoved the door open. And who should be there but Gabriel. Taninniver and Gabriel stared at me and Sofiel standing in the doorway.
“Are you always so rude when visiting other peoples’ rooms?” Gabriel inquired.
“You’re one to talk,” I countered.
He gave me a dirty look.
“Taninniver, we shall talk later. I would not wish to interrupt your little talk.”
Sofiel and I moved out of the doorway and Gabriel departed. Taninniver smiled at us both, a secretive smile which gave you the feeling he knew everything and would never tell you. His black, silver-tipped hair was cut short, I think mostly for efficiency. He was tall and slim, but not muscled like Gabriel. He had that air about him of someone who lives for knowledge and its pursuit. His cheekbones were high, and when you looked at him just right, he appears somewhat like a mummy.
“Come in.”
Taninniver’s office is covered in books: piled, stacked, shelved, boxed, and open in every way possible. This is predictable, him being the head librarian and all. He is only a half of a floor away from having read all the books in the library. Amazing, considering that angels ten times his age are not even close to such a feat. At least he is doing something worthwhile with his life.
Sofiel and I each found somewhere to sit in all the mess.
“Sofiel, I was supposed to give you a message,” he thought about it for a few seconds, “Oh well, it will come to me.”
He smiled at both of us, again. I knew that smile was fake, a contrived mask to protect himself. It was important for him to look perfectly normal to everyone. What I knew about Taninniver could easily send him to The Basements, permanently.
“Why was Gabriel here?” I questioned.
“It seems that another book from Section 5 has made it into your possession. He wanted to know if I had somehow handed that book directly into your hands, after, of course, helping you find it,” he smiled.
That naturally was exactly what had happened. I smiled back.
“Surely you did not admit to committing such a scandalous crime?” I joked.
“I said that it could have been when some of the trainees were in charge on my day off. You can never count on the watchfulness of the young,” he turned to Sofiel, “I’ve remembered the message. Israfil wants to know if he can remove some of the gardens that are overflowing into the Outdoor Music Hall.”
Sofiel gasped in horror. She stood up so swiftly that the pile of books that she had been seated on toppled over.
“Sorry, sorry! I have to go before he does anything drastic!” she called out back to us as she rushed out the door.
Taninniver laughed as soon as she was out of earshot.
“You remembered what the message was the whole time!”
“Yes I did,” he said proudly.
“You are so mean to her. I don’t think she really notices, but you are.”
“I don’t care.”
I was silent. Taninniver was looking at me curiously.
“Does that bother you?” he asked.
“Not really. I don’t really mind, it’s just the way you are,” I ventured.
He smiled.
“I think it bothers you that you aren’t bothered.”
I looked up at him and knew it was a cold look. I let him see how true I thought that statement was.
“You really don’t care?”
“You’d be in The Basements right now if I did care.”
He shivered.
“Isn’t it a rule that you can’t be afraid?”
“A sociopath can still feel fear,” he said stiffly, “Fear is not really an emotion, it’s a survival instinct. Just as happiness and sadness are states of being.”
That’s right. Taninniver is a sociopath. He is also my best friend. He really doesn’t see me as a friend, I know, because he can’t feel those kinds of emotions. I’ve never worked up the courage to ask him why he likes me or keeps me around. He keeps Sofiel around because he likes to mess with her. But he doesn’t mess with me. All he does is give me as much access to Section 5 as I want, helps me find books, talks to me, and is like a real friend. And don’t give me bullshit about ‘Maybe he wants a real friend’ or ‘Maybe he’s not really a sociopath’. Yeah fucking right. I can’t believe I’m going to say this, I thought to myself.
“Why do you hang out with me?” I asked.
He looked at me, puzzled.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you obviously don’t need friends. You don’t even like anyone unless they can provide some sort of entertainment. So what do I give you?”
“Ah, I see,” he smiled, and then contemplated it for a few minutes, “You are a thorn in Gabriel’s side. He loathes you more than any other person in Above, human and angel alike. He constantly punishes you, causes everyone else to hate you as well. And yet you still disobey him. I do not understand that, not at all. You do not even see him as anything special, except that he is in charge and you could never beat him in a fight. So I think you are entertainment and a mystery at the same time.”
“Because I piss Gabriel off?”
“That is accurate enough.”
“You’re fucking weird.”
“Also, that wonderful language of yours,” he laughed, “I don’t think I’ve heard an angel curse like you ever in my lifetime.”
I grinned at him. Just then I remembered why I was there.
“Is there any specific reason why you wanted to talk to me?” I inquired.
“Yes actually. I wanted to know what Gabriel punished you with this time,” he beamed at me, still in a happy mood.
My mood, in contrast, had just withered as I thought of Uriel and my appointment. I felt the blood draining from my face.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have an appointment with Uriel,” I said simply, those words containing more menace than a much longer explanation would, for there is fear in the unknown.
Taninniver stared at me.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“When?” he whispered.
“Gabriel gave me the option of choosing my own time. I have to go sometime today or tomorrow. I don’t understand why, though.”
Taninniver whistled.
“How’d you pull this one off? Uriel doesn’t interrupt everything for just anyone.”
“I didn’t think of that.”
“Yes, if you were given the choice of when to come, then he will have to stop whatever he is doing to deal with you.”
“I just thought when I came had to do with how much punishment I was going to get,” I replied softly.
“I don’t think so. Uriel is going to have his way with you regardless.”
We both looked at each other.
“Are you going to break? Like everyone else?” he asked, “Because if you do you won’t be interesting anymore. You’ll be just like everyone else who has been to Uriel. You’ll be a pawn, nothing more, nothing less. I think everyone else will like you more, but you don’t care about them, do you? You care about me.”
“Was that your version of a pep talk?” I asked bitterly, “Because it isn’t working too well.”
“You should go now. Don’t keep Uriel waiting.”
“Arrogant today, aren’t we?”
“It’s one of my secret talents.”
I looked at him, memorizing his face. His could possibly be the last friendly face I saw before I lost myself.
“If Sofiel asks, I’m somewhere not dangerous.”
“Of course, as long as I get to tell her we’ve been lying to her.”
“Knock yourself out,” I gave as my parting shot.
