Tail of the Dragon

by Timothy Reihm

  Chapter 1

  Hasdiel stood on the empty podium imprinting the scene before him on the canvas of his prodigious memory. He stood still as a statue, completely motionless except for his serious blue eyes, which slowly scanned the scene, sorting, choosing, and cataloging the array of images before him. As the celestial scribe, it was his duty to give narrative clarity to occasions where the power of Kol was invoked. Although the words used by the three Kings in ordering matter could not be recorded, as they had no written equivalent, he was charged with the task of detailing the events that rendered existence- for galaxies, worlds, and for today, beings.

  Creation itself was a perpetual condition, a never-ending ripple emanating from the utterance. The Kings spoke life, and from that point of entry a continual well of creative force sprang. But that ongoing process differed from the initial creative act. That beginning came directly from the source, and it was Hasdiel's job to detail that initiation. Today, instead of a new galaxy, with its innumerable worlds and species, new fellow arella would be created. Arella, as celestial beings and the direct servants of the Kings, were always prime creations, derived straight from the word.

  Given his position, Hasdiel was certainly aware that the creation of nearly a thousand arella meant a lot of responsibility for him. As prime creations, he was charged with maintaining an ongoing history for each one. He would track their progress through the academy, give input into what choir they would be inducted into, and follow their post-academic work.

  Each of these histories served as a kind of thread. These threads wove in and out, intertwining with others, constructing patterns, stories, impressions, philosophies. These tapestries were the essence of creation. Creating a world or a being was a singularly beautiful act, but the interaction between creations was the point. The beauty of the tapestry depended on the way that the created interacted with each other.

  ‘It is almost time.’

  The familiar, sudden voice startled Hasdiel and caused his immobile frame to twitch perceptibly.

  ‘Araton, my old friend, are you ready?’

  ‘I am always ready,’ his friend responded with that recognizable twinkle in his eye, as he strode to his position on the podium from where he would signal the entrance of the Kings.

  The presence of his old comrade reinforced the image of the tapestry. He and Araton had been in the same cohort at the academy and had remained friends since those early days. And Araton had always been ready for anything. The two telmid were a source of irritation to many of their instructors during their schooling. He recalled the time that they had removed all the bolts from their geography instructor’s chair before a class. He could still hear the laughter of his classmates as the haughty instructor landed unceremoniously on his backside with an irritated thump.

  A palpable change could be perceived in the crowd below and that transformation forced him to return his attention to his duties. It wouldn't be long now. He had witnessed this process many times and never tired of it. He envisioned the awestruck faces soon to appear, as the newly created host opened their eyes for the first time and beheld their makers.

  The podium that Hasdiel occupied stood just outside the eastern gates of the Eternal City, overlooking the vast plain before him. Ordinarily, this landscape was an endless sea of rich green grasses, highlighted by flowers of every color. But today was no ordinary day. The lush hues of the vegetation were still there, but their colors were muted below the shimmering, platinum glow of a fine metallic mist that covered everything, bathing the verdant scenery with an electric softness that seemed to dance with anticipation and energy.

  Standing in formation by the eastern wall stood the escorts, numbering well over a hundred. Each held a shield in their left hand that bore the symbol of their respective choir and wielded a sword of the purest diamond in their right. All were dressed in bright adorned with a breastplate of singly colored gems. Their ranks were chosen in equal numbers from the seven choirs, each identifiable by the color of their ceremonial helmets and shields.

  The silence shattered as a trumpet emitted a sudden note and the escorts glided forward and broke apart in a precise movement to form a box below the podium that Hasdiel occupied. The shadows at the base of the eastern wall shortened perceptively as the great mountain started glowing brighter, far off, in the heart of the city. All eyes focused on the incandescent mass of Mount Kol. The radiant eminence began rushing toward them, growing even larger. In an instant it loomed up massive and close. It seemed near enough to touch and towered over all.

  A dark line appeared, running down the rocky entirety. The crease became a tear, a fissure that split the peak in two and revealed an inner sphere of brilliant light. This orb eliminated all remaining shade, and was suddenly there, in the center of the box created by the resplendent host. As it did so the angels bowed low in unison, stretching their wings over their heads and unto the ground.

  The sphere unfolded, layers peeling away, revealing the three figures on their thrones. A voice called, ‘Arise, my friends.’

  The escorts responded immediately and stood at full attention, with shields at their left sides and swords resting at an angle across their breastplates. As had happened on the day of his own creation, Hasdiel saw Elyon first, sitting upon his throne in the midst of the sphere. Ruach sat to his left wearing the robe that reflected the pattern of the encircling angelic box. To the right was Adonai. He rose and stepped forward with hands held aloft. Alert and attentive, Hasdiel knew this was the moment they had been anticipating.

  An unseen breeze gathered on the immense field, lifting the quanta as it swirled and swept along. At first this movement seemed unordered, but as it blew across the plain it pooled into symmetrical patterns. Indistinct images formed in the pillars of glowing dust, gathering and coalescing gradually. He watched the metallic clouds thicken and twist, molding the increasingly distinguishable bodies, limbs and faces. In a second that seemed to hang interminably, the glimmering columns became. Where shafts of shimmering particles had been, appeared, in the blink of an eye, distinct forms, each beautiful and unique, hovering before the assembled throng, looking as if they were sleeping. Next, came the command. To those watching a single word was uttered; one that, though unintelligible, was understood by all to be the word of initiation. However, Hasdiel knew that each of these new beings would hear a personal, fully comprehensible, order to exist. As Adonai spoke the word, a powerful wind came from the thrones occupied by the three Kings and filled the nostrils of each of the newly created figures, and they began to stir...

  Hasdiel stood stiffly, watching the remarkable scene before him. He opened up the titrane-bound volume and began transferring his thoughts onto the page. He scanned the faces of the escorts and knew that they, like himself, were remembering their own creation days. He focused on the being closest to him and saw the features form, one instant a cloud of thickening dust, the next a face, a brother, 'Ariel' he suddenly knew, and that telmid’s record was created.

   

  Noise. Spinning round and round. Again, the noise. Changing. Not vibration. A word. Words, spinning round and round. Searching, grasping. Someone calling.

  The voice, beautiful and welcoming. A voice? Yes, sounds coming from another. Another? Not me. Me? A being?

  The sounds multiply and amplify. They rise and sweeten. Pictures? Images mixed with words. The voice calling me. Coming from Him. A face. A smile. Eyes, so beautiful and knowing. His face is still, a gentle smile resting placidly, reassuringly. But the words come and I understand. He is speaking to my, my mind. The idea clarifies and gives order to the images in my, my eyes. Yes.

  ‘Be Ariel.’

   

  Hasdiel was aware the instant that the being before him became. The eyes suddenly blazed with an inner light. The black pupils began to recede into growing pools of steely blue. He watched those eyes dart quickly around seeking. They found their target and the look of joy on the newly created being's face stir
red something in him. He felt deep emotion well up in his core, remembering the first time his eyes opened and saw the perfect form of the three Kings.

   

  Words are forming in my head. I sense a strange power in my body. A warm glow in the center of my chest, spreading out, filling my shoulders, legs, arms, toes. My eyes see images. Other faces. I stand and enjoy the sensation of effort that the act requires. There is a soft light and as its glow fills me, I feel it radiating, showing. In an instant I understand. I see creation, life, growth. My mind is suddenly filled with words, ideas, emotions. I have been created. I have been ordered into existence. I am a special, unique creation.

  ‘I am,’ I think, staring at the three beings before me.

  The voice of Adonai broke the silence.

  ‘My new friends; we welcome you to life and to the Kingdom. Each of you has been created, perfect in form and figure, with a free will to live that life, as you see fit. Each of you will receive the knowledge and support to grow and thrive. I know that even now you have many things to ask and I assure you that all of your questions will be answered in time. We are so pleased to have you join us. Your escorts will guide you to your new homes.'

  Instantly, the wall of Cherubim surrounding the throne began to close again until only a gleaming sphere was visible. The mountain closed around the orb and withdrew, leaving the shadows to reemerge at the base of the city wall.