Authors: Wendy Alec
‘Good night, Gabriel.’
Chapter Two
The Inauguration
Hundreds of thousands of angelic legions were assembled in preparation for the ceremony. Gabriel waited, grave and silent, under the intricate golden carvings of the cherubim and seraphim in the Crystal Palace atrium. His flawless features reflected in the translucent diamond walls. He wore a simple white shift, the traditional inauguration attire. His pale blond tresses were plaited with platinum and lightning; his chin was set. He leaned downward to place his new dagger in the sheath at his ankle, his fingers trembling.
Michael watched from the far side of the nave, restraining a smile. Now that he studied his younger brother, he could swear that Gabriel’s pretty features had matured almost overnight. The beautiful countenance exuded a strength and a wisdom that seemed new to Michael. He rubbed his chin in wonder.
Gabriel, angelic prophet – the revelator – comes of age.
Directly behind him, a small door hidden in the magnificently panelled frescoed wall slowly opened.
An ancient, white-haired, venerable-looking figure walked out, his voluminous golden train carried nervously by a dumpy, fresh-faced cherubic angel. It was Jether, imperial warrior and ruler of the twenty-four ancient monarchs of heaven – the Ancient Ones, stewards of Yehovah’s sacred mysteries.
Jether’s pure-spun white beard reached almost to the floor. On his head sat a golden crown embedded with jacinth, and on his shoulder perched an enormous white owl with searching, gentle brown eyes.
‘The young prince seems a trifle nervous, Your Excellency.’ Jether’s ancient eyes twinkled mischievously.
Michael frowned. ‘Jether?’ He turned in delight as they embraced affectionately. ‘It has seemed many moons, old friend.’ Michael bowed briefly to the owl. ‘Why, honourable Jogli; I have missed your instruction!’
Jether stroked Jogli and smiled. ‘We have been taken up with the preparations.’ Jether gestured in Gabriel’s direction. ‘The preparation of his mind, his soul, his spirit.’
Michael nodded. ‘He is come of age.’
Jether hesitated, stroking his beard thoughtfully. ‘Ah, yes, my noble Michael, I remember another ordination and another young protégé many moons ago.’ He gave Michael a deep, meaningful look from under his bushy eyebrows. ‘One who was in a sword fight that very dawn.’ The grey eyes twinkled.
‘I am rebuked, venerable Jether. My younger brother does well indeed. Better than I.’ Michael laughed. ‘My temper has been better of late!’
Jether winked at Michael and immediately coughed, smothering a guffaw, his features deliberately grave. ‘Thank you, Obadiah. You may now prepare my throne.’
The blushing Obadiah bowed and bowed again, so deeply that he nearly tumbled face down into Jether’s train.
Jether’s eyes glimmered with amusement as he watched the cherub scuttle away in the wrong direction. He turned his head to the owl. ‘Jogli, I sense the youngling may need your assistance.’
Jogli spread his vast white wings and, with one flap, overtook the still-stumbling Obadiah and swung him upward in his talons, turned around, and flew him across the vast crystal atrium towards the altar.
‘Younglings, younglings . . . ’
Jether gazed intently into the noble face. ‘You have done well, my valiant, warring Michael. I have followed your progress avidly from the hidden sanctum.’ Jether’s eyes shone with pride and affection. ‘Chief Prince Michael, commander of the warring archangels, your spirit clothed with honour, nobility, and valour,’ he murmured.
He looked to where Jogli was carefully adjusting Gabriel’s cloak. ‘And now this very day, Gabriel, the revelator, will be out of my charge . . . ’ he reflected.
He sighed deeply. ‘I have served both Almighty Yehovah and yourselves with every vestige of power that was granted me. The three of you, each as a son to me.’
Michael stared into Jether’s imperial wizened face. ‘You speak truly, my old friend. Our Father saw fit to entrust you with schooling each of us through the centuries in the ways of the warrior and in the ways of the Ancient of Days.’
Jether closed his eyes, his face bathed in awe. ‘He alone is worthy of our undying allegiance,’ he whispered. ‘He alone is worthy of all worship, adoration, power, and dominion.’
Jether clasped Michael’s strong, sinewed hands in his ancient, veined ones. ‘I have seen, Michael . . . I have seen the very mysteries and the wonders of the holy place. The new universe, Michael . . . and man.’ Jether looked long and deeply into Michael’s eyes. His gaze was brilliant and piercing, almost as though reaching to the inner parts of Michael’s very soul and spirit. ‘I read your soul, Michael . . . ’ Jether’s voice was soft. ‘You wish to gaze upon this new race?’
Michael’s eyes were aflame with wonder.
Jether’s words trailed off as he slowly turned his gaze upward then, to the point directly above the position where the throne of Yehovah would descend.
Michael followed his gaze to where Lucifer sat, high above all the proceedings, resplendent in the heavy robes of purple velvet, crowned with translucent rays of light, radiant in his beauty. The intense sapphire eyes were fierce with passionate adoration. He stood silent on the ornate carved ivory and marble pulpit that hung from the high place in the centre of the crystal dome, staring ahead into the enormous chamber, poised to lead the myriads of heaven in their worship to the God of hosts. He was holding the golden sceptre with which he would conduct the hosts of heaven – choirmaster of the great symphony of angelic worshippers.
Michael shook his head in admiration. ‘My brother – most adored of heaven.’
‘Full of wisdom and perfect in beauty.’ So low was Jether’s whisper that Michael could barely hear his words. ‘Lucifer, the shining one.’
Jether lowered his gaze from the vision of the resplendent Lucifer. ‘And now I shall spend my days in council.’ He clapped his hands. ‘And in supplications.’ He looked around for Obadiah, who was deep in conversation with five other younglings immersed in archery marksmanship, aiming at a pearl from fifty paces. ‘Younglings! Never here when they are truly required!’ Jether gathered up the long satin train in his arms. ‘Now, let me away to the young prince Gabriel – it seems to me that he is in need of some moral support.’
Michael stared after the fast-disappearing Jether. Obadiah scurried after him, almost slipping on the gleaming marble floors in his haste to grab Jether’s train back from his master.
‘Gabriel!’ Michael exclaimed. He strode hurriedly after Jether.
* * *
Lucifer stood in the high place, his arms raised in abandoned worship to Yehovah, his face bathed in the blinding, shimmering light.
He turned to the millions of the prostrate angelic host and lifted his sceptre, his purple velvet robes billowing. A great oration came forth from his lips, and the sound was as the sound of celestial pipes and of flutes and of clarinets and of every pipe ever heard in the universe. In response a great song of adoration and worship burst forth from the heavenly host.
Lucifer lifted his sceptre. ‘All hail Yehovah!’ Lucifer’s voice rose above those of the angelic host.
The entire assembly rose, their heads bowed, their arms outstretched. Immediately, the entire chamber reverberated with the sound of angelic voices. ‘All hail Yehovah!’
A great rumble of thunder issued from the throne, through the mist – the roar of a thousand waters.
All at once it was as if aeon upon aeon of galaxies descended through the open dome as Yehovah’s feet descended. And with the descent, a great and terrible roaring filled the chamber. It was as though the suns and the moons and stars from millions upon millions of galaxies were woven as a living, pulsating tapestry of the cosmos that cloaked His being. From each moon and planet and from the millions of stars that radiated from the translucent cloak of His radiance resounded light waves that oscillated through universe after universe – a tsunami of sound.
The Ancient of Days descended into the chamber amid the thunder and lightning, and as He did, the blazing white light of the chamber was replaced with a dazzling amethyst light, which turned to emerald and then sapphire – the spectra of light reflected in Yehovah’s mantle. As He descended a rainbow descended also, which seemed to stretch throughout the universe, surrounding His presence. Millions of angels circled at His feet singing praises and hymns of adoration.
Before His feet the seven blazing torches burned as seven columns of white fire, and in the midst of each torch were the flaming coals of the Spirit of Yehovah. The throne of His glory descended with Him. As it lowered, the floor of the throne room became as mercury, then morphed from the fluid metal into a sea that was as living, breathing sapphire. It was transparent, and there was no flaw within it.
Earsplitting peals of thunder seemed to shake the chamber so that the very atoms of the walls pulsated. And as the thunder subsided, blue lightning bolts, shot through with white fire, coursed through the Ancient of Days’ cloak, lighting up the universe in their wake. Its circumference resembled the orbs of a thousand brilliant suns.
When the throne and the One who sat on it had descended, the lofty, translucent pearl gates of the Crystal Palace began to open. As they did, an angelic herald blew the shofar.
‘I herald the holy Council of the Ancient Ones,’ he proclaimed. ‘Stewards of Yehovah’s sacred mysteries.’
Slowly the blinding white mists cleared, revealing the twenty-four Ancient Ones, the twenty-four ancient kings of heaven, Yehovah’s elders, clothed in brilliant white with crowns of gold upon their heads. They walked majestically through the pearl gates and up the nave. They stopped before the twenty-four golden thrones behind the enormous carved golden altar.
Leading them was Jether, chief elder of the Ancient Ones. He held his gold sceptre high in front of the angelic host, and they bowed in accord. Jether sat on the centre throne, the twenty-three remaining kings following his lead.
Once again the herald blew the shofar. ‘Gabriel, the revelator, prince of archangels,’ he proclaimed. ‘Long may you reign with wisdom and justice.’
The angelic host’s refrain reverberated through the chamber as Gabriel, grave and resolute, followed the kings through the gates and into the palace atrium, Michael at his side, regal in his crimson imperial robe, carrying the Sword of State.
‘Michael, the valiant,’ the herald announced, ‘chief prince of archangels.’
‘Long may you reign with justice and valour,’ the angelic host proclaimed.
Together Michael and Gabriel walked up the nave of the dome towards the Seat of Kings, the throne in front of the immense onyx altar. Their knights-in-arms fell into step behind them, solemnly bearing the banners of the Royal House of Yehovah.
As the brothers reached the Seat of Kings, the entire chamber fell silent.
‘Lucifer, the light-bearer, chief prince of archangels.’
‘Long may you reign, anointed cherub who covers,’ the angelic chorus echoed throughout the chambers as Lucifer walked ceremoniously from his high throne down to the altar to join his brothers.
As one, the three archangels bowed low and knelt in the burning mist that poured from the carved ice throne before the altar.
Lucifer fell prostrate, facing the throne of Yehovah. His face shone so bright it seemed to burn. ‘Behold, O God our defender, and look upon the face of Thy chief princes, for one day in Thy courts is better than a thousand elsewhere.’
He was silent, his face down, for a long moment. Then, slowly rising, he turned to the angelic host, which stood solemnly in the chamber. ‘My angelic brothers, I here present to you Gabriel, bondservant of the Most High, anointed prince of the Royal House of Yehovah!’
Lucifer turned to Gabriel, his sapphire gaze fervent. ‘Do you, Gabriel, pledge to do your just homage or service and to assign yourself to these, your angelic host, from this day forth?’
Gabriel’s gaze was steady. ‘I do.’
‘Will you, to the extent of your power, cause law and justice, in mercy, to be executed in all your judgments?’
Gabriel nodded. ‘I solemnly promise to do so.’
Michael stepped forward. ‘Will you pledge to serve and honour and glorify Yehovah the Almighty God, Creator, Preserver, the Ancient of Days, to execute His will forever only, to serve and venerate
forever
His person only, throughout eternity of eternities?’
Gabriel lifted his head towards Yehovah’s throne, his face shining. ‘I solemnly pledge this to Yehovah.’
Michael gravely handed Gabriel the Sword of Revelation.
A great thunder issued from the throne and through the mist – the roar of a thousand waters. ‘This is Gabriel, Our beloved. We name him Revelator.’
Zadkiel, prince of the Holy Watchers and Lucifer’s chief attendant, stepped out from the throne. His powerful presence was gentle but imposing. His features were almost as beautiful as Lucifer’s, and he exuded almost as much light as Lucifer himself. ‘On behalf of the Ancient of Days,’ Zadkiel pronounced, ‘and as stewards of His sacred person, we the Holy Watchers receive your homage. We receive your pledge.’
Jether stood up from his throne and walked towards the altar. A knight placed a heavy gold ampulla into Jether’s hands, the bottle reflecting the glory from the throne. Four knights-in-arms held a pall of heavy, fine gold over Gabriel’s head. ‘On behalf of the Ancient of Days, as His elders and stewards of His holy mysteries, we, the Council of the Ancient Ones, receive your homage. We receive your pledge.’