The Ancients and the Angels: Celestials

by M.C. O'Neill

  ***

  Although he didn’t need it, the fish tasted pretty good and, for a moment, he envied the elves reliance upon the notion of food. Quen’die was wolfing her plate down as if she were starving.

  “Sorry I’m eating like a pig, but I haven’t been having enough under these stupid rations,” she explained with a full mouth. “I’m so happy the city provided everyone with a free lunch here today. I hope I can get seconds.”

  “It is pretty good,” Mavriel agreed. “I especially like the taste of these bones. They’re crunchy.”

  “You’re not supposed to eat those!” the maiden laughed. “You could choke on them! It happens all the time, so I’m told.”

  “I’ll be careful,” he smiled. “So anyway, about Sammian.” The deva moved in closer as he noticed that a few infernals were walking around close to the makeshift food court. Many elves in their company were devouring their plates with equal gusto as they too had suffered the same scant rationing.

  “Yes,” Quen’die wiped her greasy mouth with a napkin. “About Sammian.”

  “Sammian was what we called an erelim back Home,” he began. “They are like our internal affairs and they have a very liberal, nearly unlimited access to Paradise. It’s their job to make sure everything is running smoothly with all the angelics and they report to Ui personally if anything happens to go wrong.”

  “But, unfortunately, the watchman needed some watching, right?” Quen’die surmised as she attacked a green apple.

  “You got it!” he chirped. “Anyway, Lucifer evidently tempted Sammian somehow with a load of nonsense and she has fallen for it. So then, she used her special powers to breach what we call the Ophanic portal.”

  “Okay, so what’s that?” the maiden had already consumed half of the sour fruit.

  “That is actually a living entity that functions like a gate to Paradise. They just sing instead of speak and they look like a winged wheel with one big eye in the center.”

  “Weird,” the maiden intoned as she eyed the scant rest of her apple with hungry greed.

  “Not the best of conversationalists, but they are totally vital to our security,” he said as he pushed some peas around on his plate. “Kind of like a living front door. Anyway, since she hasn’t fully fallen yet, she’s in a state of limbo. She is what we call a ‘Peri.’”

  “Wow, this is a lot to take in,” Quen’die looked at her empty plate and frowned. “Devas, erelim, peris, ophans. What else?”

  “Paradise and the Inferno each have many ranks and classes.” He looked off at a large infernal male who was walking along with a young brunette maiden; locked in what seemed to be friendly conversation. “But I too have an infernal counterpart who is assigned to you as well.”

  “What?” Quen’die’s attention was now undivided as she stared at her deva with large frozen eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if you live a bad life, and I mean a really bad one, you will be escorted by an Asura when you die,” Mavriel’s face cast a dour countenance.

  “You mean bad, like Lith?” Quen’die asked him with an honest force.

  “Well, she’s young yet,” he grimaced with a shrug. “I guess that all remains to be seen. But yes, if you do truly enough evil in your life, I have to hand you over to your asura.”

  “Eww… ‘asura,’” the maiden winced at the dreadful possibility. “So what’s his name?”

  “Yours?” the deva pushed his half-eaten plate over to Quen’die who began attacking it in an instant. “Well, it’s a female. Her name is Quezz, and she’s a real piece of work, might I add. You definitely should feel thankful that she’s not watching over you.”

  “You don’t have to warn me, Mavriel!” Quen’die raised a thin scarlet brow in disappointment at such a notion. “I have no ill intent and I’m not a baby.”

  “I know you don’t and I didn’t mean to sound like I was telling you an old wives’ tale, but she’s very real and she would love for me to pass you over.” He wondered if he was being too harsh with her, but so many elves were swayed with ease by the wrong ideas. Mavriel loved Quen’die and he just wanted her to know what her options were. “Guess I just wanted to give you a fair shake. That’s all.”

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about me, Mav,” she was feeling full at last and put down her chopsticks. “This face is on the case.”

  “Yes,” he broke a slow smile as he looked into her beautiful green eyes with a sense of pride and assurance. “I do believe so.”

  Sittin’ In a Tree

  A short time ago, this grand house was an abattoir of humiliation for Venn’lith Mitlan. The thrashing of her name and the shredding of her ego all took place within the arboreal innards of Sig’ryn’s odd, leafy mansion. No matter what direction she turned, burning memories of that terrible party were triggered in her mind. Why her father had decided to meet the God’runn’s there was only logical, but she tried her best to fake an illness to avoid revisiting it. It was an unfortunate fact, the maiden’s father was all too aware of her rote manipulations and he had insisted she go since she was now an official and no longer a child.

  It all had something to do about a potion or medicine that the Aldebarans were concocting to alleviate the trip to this new world. In truth, she wasn’t paying honest attention to the situation or her expected directions, since she was much more focused on the playful wiles of her dear Cadreth. As it was told, the journey to this system could be rather unpleasant to the typical elf and this alchemical remedy was supposed to rectify that for everyone. Sig’ryn’s father’s corporation was designated to mass-produce and market it. Just as Venn’lith was the designated spokesperson for the Youth Parliament, she too was assigned to monger this dope on the manascreen.

  Show business was harder work than she had imagined, and she, to be frank, didn’t enjoy it. Why all the tittering maidens at school wanted in such desperation to be cast in front of the mirrors was now beyond her. For the most of every day, it was idle waiting and lots of it. No matter how demure or subtle the makeup and costuming were designed, it involved hours upon hours in a cramped stylist’s chair. “The Djaenn’s” conversations, which Venn’lith found witty under normal circumstances, could turn rather tiresome after a while as she would never shut her mouth. In order to maintain her ladylike poise in front of her alien hosts, Venn’lith developed the simple coping skill of biting her lower lip while she practiced the inane lines in her head for whatever stupid message her father insist she parrot.

  Breaks were at least frequent and this was a blessing as it meant she could spend more time with her new playmate when the adverts’ bumbling director had called for one. Cadreth was more than just a mere diversion, she figured. This feeling settled deep in her gut and she was becoming more and more accepting of it as the two spent time together. Long ago, the Xochian decided from an early age that love was for the weak and it would open one to terrible exposure and collateral. Something about this male broke her self-imposed law and she had been debating those feelings ever since she first laid eyes on his transcendent beauty.

  As the commercial’s director was mumbling about losing the evening light and hollering at various mirrortechs, Venn’lith sidled up to her new novion on Sig’ryn’s high veranda. He was staring far out into the golden ocean before them as if he had never seen anything like it before.

  Everything was such a wonderful dream to the winged lad, the maiden noticed. He was entranced by so many simple things on Earth that Venn’lith found it quite endearing. Were anyone else to act this way about more-or-less nothing, she would have been irritated to the extreme.

  “You look as if you’ve never seen an ocean,” she broke his trance with the mundane nature before him. “Do you not have these things back home?”

  “Oh, we have them, but our atmosphere is different somewhat,” he looked down at her petite form with a loving smirk. “These colors…they just don’t happen. They are so wonderful and bright. I can’t explain it, but I am
genuinely sad that you guys have to leave all of this.”

  “Eh,” Venn’lith was now interested in his alien world. How could an ocean under any atmosphere not flicker with light, she fretted? Just the suggestion left by his statement was a bit creepy in her opinion. “What exactly do your oceans look like?”

  “Not like this!” he announced with unabashed wonder. “It’s hard to explain. They’re…very dark and…,” he rummaged in his mind for words that would not denature the sick qualities of hell. The last thing he wanted to do was to spook this maiden about her coming destination. “Well, they’re pretty black, I guess.”

  “Black!” she looked up at his tall frame, almost as if she were pleading. “How horrible! What’s wrong with Aldebaran?”

  Cadreth could see this one was rather savvy and was not swayed by the ease of sugar coating. Her question was so blunt and kind of insulting. He figured that he would have to disclose a half-truth with some creativity. “Heh, nothing is wrong with Aldebaran, it just has different astronomical qualities than Earth and that makes for a different-looking environment, I guess. I like it just fine, but, yes, you wouldn’t enjoy my homeworld one bit, I’m afraid.” He stared out again at the kaleidoscope of color and movement of the Eastern Atlantean. “We have nothing like this. The oceans are so dark and grim. Like an endless track of slow crude.”

  “Oh, I see,” Venn’lith frowned at Cadreth as a horrible image played through her head of what it must be like there. “Um, what’s ‘crude?’”

  “You know, unprocessed oil. Eh…, look, don’t worry about it,” he let out a small chuckle at her misunderstanding of a technology her kind did not know. “It’s just pretty ugly in comparison to this, that’s all.”

  The maiden had never considered herself very imaginative, as she was treated to anything material her mind had wished, but as she could not fathom the true nature of Cadreth’s cryptic description, she craved to know more about his murky origin. “Okay, I have to know. Exactly how can such a gorgeous creature like you come from anywhere that is ugly? I think you are pulling my leg, Mijo.”

  Venn’lith was willful; almost a brat and he loved that about her. Trickery and temptation were his assigned specialties, but she was mesmerizing in her own way. When all of this was over, the infernal decided that he would petition Lucifer to have her made into a succubus and not a bag of idiotic larva which was sure to be the fate of the rest of elfdom. It was a definite imperative. Unlike the others amongst that lustful rank such as Polunica, he wanted his target for his very own. Perhaps he would deign to ignore the rest of those groveling fiends and tend to her in an exclusive fashion. No one could plan out eternity, he mused, but he would not rule such a warm notion out.

  “Aldebaran is ugly in that it’s just dark and grey and,” he fumbled for as neutral of words as he could mine. “Dull, I suppose. It isn’t fit for your beauty.”

  “I should say not!” she ignored his compliment and that made him smile even more. The maiden’s ego was unmatched, even by her bulky, haughty father. That lord was too political and apologetic with the goetics; simpering was a better word for him. Venn’lith knew nothing like that and her force and strength made her all the more attractive. Under normal circumstances, were he to “visit” her in her sleep, she would be sure to rebuff him just because she knew that she could. Once in hell, Glasya herself would have to look over her shoulder more often with this one amongst the demonic population. Venn’lith, he reasoned, for lack of a better term, was a total…

  “…I shall make it my honest effort never to step foot on the surface of Aldebaran,” she broke his thought as she raised her sharp nose in the air and jutted her bottom lip as if her statement was a royal decree.

  Cadreth couldn’t contain the burn he felt as her face bore directly into his eyes. Taking advantage of her pose, he cupped her sharp chin in his soft hands and descended onto her lips. Her regal air was forgotten to her as she accepted with no attempt to resist. She tasted the powdery eternity of instant love with each second she met him. Both shared the beautiful horror of this feeling reserved only for the frail and stupid which they both had vowed never to relent. Love will find anyone, no matter how hard one tries to hide from it, the fiend thought as they swirled in each other’s spirit. Even in hell.

  After what seemed like blissful years, Cadreth pulled away and saw that the evil maiden was still kissing him in the barren air. He had her in his designs, but she too was an astute captor and that didn’t matter to him. As an incubus, he was failing miserably and he loved it. It was certain that he would need to employ some diligent convincing to his boss about how he felt and his new arrangement, but that plea would have to wait for the right time. Until then, the disgraced angel would enjoy Venn’lith Mitlan on this idyllic Earth with as much honesty as she would allow him. Their love was now under each other’s will.

  “Venn’lith,” he whispered. “It’s nearly time.”

  “Yes, it is,” she hissed with love, unable to reopen her dark eyes from her living dream.

  “Lith,” he restated with dull composure. “I mean, the director wants you back on set. It’s time to get back to shooting.” With that, he laughed at her romantic misunderstanding and her confusion made him endeared to her all the more.

  Her entranced face switched without a skip to one of rudely-awoken annoyance. The director of the commercial, she couldn’t recall his name and didn’t care to, was booming demands of his mirrorcasters to ready themselves for the next shot.

  “Back to the set! All figures back to the set!” he grated with a screeching whine. The Xochian could not stand him. It didn’t matter if he was an acclaimed director of major films or that this production was slated to be the most expensive commercial in manascreen history, this bleating tyrant was an idiot.

  Not only was he an idiot, but he was the one to shatter the first tender moment Venn’lith had experienced - ever. Yes, there had been many males in her past, such as Ferd’inn Kokoff, but not one of them could compare to the raw existence of Cadreth. When she ruled elfdom’s new home as an empress, he would be her king. She could save him from that dun planet of his with its black oceans and treat him to a life of lavish love that only she could supply. King Cadreth of Mitlan would suffice quite well as his royal title and, thus, she was settled on it.

  “Lith! Can you hear me?” the director whined. “It’s set call! We’re going to lose the light! Move it!”

  The maiden floated with calm menace over to the little director and halted herself when she made her way square in his face. “You raise your voice to me once more, you corpulent twit, and I’ll see to it personally that you are left behind with the orcs!” She ground her ivory-white teeth with a torque unlike ever before.

  He could see that she wasn’t joking one bit as his world-renowned face went bleach-white at the notion of being the only snack available on Earth for the inbound, bloodthirsty armada. He knew very well that she could make such a nightmare happen for him. Six months of waiting in loneliness on a doomed world with nothing to think about other than the first payload of invaders descending from the sky. “Eh, okay. Please take your spot, Prime Warden,” he peeped, defeated.

  A script assistant crept up to the maiden who was in perfect alignment with the mirrors. Venn’lith poised herself against the natural scenery of the burning Eastern Ocean; its waves rolling with gentle gold and crimson like a beachside paradise. Cadreth stood back and viewed her as the multicolored-shine of evening Earth fell over her bronze skin and settled across her toned form so naturally. She was so beautiful and he loved how her rich hair was simple and straight and long tonight like gravity-fed obsidian. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t dare to don such simplicity, but even the humble look suited her well. It only accentuated her honesty, which was an attribute that was all but alien to him and he loved it.

  “Thelemex Advert: Take 5- Action!”

  As the Xochian recited her lines with ease, she focused her sights upon Cadreth who
towered behind that annoying director. In all hope, she thought, her diverted attention would make for a happy accident once the shot had been cut and sent into the flow. What exactly was it about this creature that she was ready to surrender even an iota of power to? It was decided, he was beautiful, but so were many of the other Aldebarans, or elves for that matter. He was only as interesting as anyone else, she assumed, but there was something so unique about his ways. It was as if she could just listen to him in silence over the phone, not say a word and do nothing but exist. That would be perfect enough. Perhaps he ensorcelled her, but she decided that very moment to allow for it.