You may be a new angel, but it seems like you've been in Heaven forever. You're a Malakite, and the Malakim are meant to fight demons. You realize that training is good, it'll help you fight demons later, but there's something so unsatisfying about it. You just can't wait to get out there and do some Good on Earth. Surely you must be ready by now?
Even the most thorough training will dull the trained after it is carried on too long. Although the forced march and night ambush was very good to do.
You are in the Groves, finishing up what seems to be an endless series of manuevers. The trees tower above you, as always, still and silent, except when a servitor of Janus rushes through on some errand. Later there will be a feast, and songs, and Doxas, the Angel of Glory, will recite the names of those who brought the most honor to themselves and their companions today.
Unfortunately, the name of Zenaniel will not be among them. You were distracted at a crucial moment, not once, but several times. When you saw what you thought was a weakness in Patton's lines, you attacked before your comrades were in position. You were taken down by two Cherubs wielding great axes in their huge paws, and caught glimpses of your side being thrown back in disarray. Dismayed, you broke free, and in your struggle to reach your companions, no less than three warriors managed to count coup on you.
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| Dave Choat |
The sounds of fighting have died down now, and angels and humans alike are heading back to the main Camp. The smell of the broken ground rises up from underfoot, clean and captivating. You pass a Kyriotate (Glacier) and a young woman discussing the finer points of high-caliber weapons. The woman (Oriel?), black-haired and olive-skinned, is gesturing pointedly at the assemblage of eyes and mouths that hover near her. She seems to have a firm grip on the discussion.
Two Seraphs and an Elohite are talking about a pool somewhere in the Groves, and whether it might be worth consulting. The Elohite is presenting her views in outline form, with the appropriate headings and subheadings. She is not in the least disturbed by the two Ofanim Sam and Max who careen among the three, shouting excitedly about their new roles as private investigators on earth.
As you pass a blue-and-gold striped tent, Marc Bestolm, your commander in today's exercises, emerges through the flap. You find it fascinating that this man, who never fought a day in his life, can command the forces of Heaven with consummate ease. You have been told that he spent a great deal of his earthly life playing games with miniature armies made of lead and other metals. Very curious. Normally he spends much of his time in the Eternal City, talking with Laurence's servitors, but he is a doer as well as a planner, and likes to see his strategies in action. He is welcome in the Camp.
Bestolm is talking to another Malakite, whom you haven't seen before. He catches your eye and they walk towards you. Definitely not a new Malakite, far from it. You don't know how you know, you just do.
As they approach, your performance in today's games, and the subsequent defeat of your comrades (though closely and valiantly fought to the bitter end), comes uncomfortably to mind.
Even the valiant will fall to a more cunning foe. Brains. Use my brains, not my biceps. It looked so RIGHT though. Argh. I was too profligate. I did not like being taken from both sides so suddenly.Ah well, it is probably time for me to discuss my shortcomings as a warrior. I was too hasty, and did not cooperate with my brethren. I attacked precipitously because I perceived a weakness. It wasn't. I need to be more analytical in these situations, or I could fail to fight well for Micheal, and that would not be Good at all. I expect my flaws to be carefully explained to me. With all of the excellent facilities and trainers here, how can I be so lackluster today? I keep methodically squeezing the hand exerciser item that was given to me by another malakim. Somehow crushing it over and over again allows me to think clearly. It was made by the Angel "AMF". It is even signed too.
Perhaps they will allow me to involve myself in some putative behavior that will teach me more. I am not wise enough yet. Perhaps I am not ready yet. I KNOW I have been very careful to (squeeze, squeeze) participate in all of the martial exercise sessions, and some of David's folk have showed me some strengthening exercises. These are good, but lifting inanimate objects doesn't require brains.
I need to think more clearly in battle. (squeeze, squeeze)
I will acknowledge Mark's presence as Strategos of today's exercise, and express my regrets at failing to exploit Patton's line successfully (squeeze, squeeze). Perhaps he could offer some insights that would increase my knowledge?
The Brother I will look at frankly and openly, awaiting introduction. An older Malakim? This should be worthwhile. (squeeze, squeeze) I am a blank page.
(the post battle gathering will be somewhat useful today, although I cannot understand why all of those mercurians like "coke" so much. It doesn't have anything to do with The War. (squeeze, squeeze) They are too light hearted. (squeeze, squeeze) What is this "refreshed" thing.)
Bestolm introduces the Malakite as Pelial, the Angel of Righteous Vengeance. You have heard of him. He is a colonel in Laurence's ranks, respected by those who fight with him and feared by those he pursues. Pelial nods to you, and then remains silent as Bestolm carefully goes over your actions today, and the absolute need for timing in all things. He waxes almost poetic, and kneels on the ground to draw lines and crosses in the dirt to show the sweep of the battle, and how it should have come out. After he breaks his second twig emphasizing a particular point, he stops abruptly and gets to his feet, dusting off his hands and smiling in a somewhat embarrassed manner.
"There'll be time for this later. Pelial would like to speak with you now."
He heads back to the tent. You're pretty sure most modern warriors don't dress in short tunics covered with a breastplate and a helmet with what looks like a large red fan made of feathers, but perhaps you should check the next time you are in the library. After all, the sandals don't seem to be at all practical.
Pelial wastes no time in getting to the point. "You are a welcome addition to the ranks of the Malakim. Heaven needs our protection, from without and within. You have of course taken your oaths?"
"Yes"
Your answer seems to throb in the air around you. Several nearby souls stop and look up for a moment before returning to inspecting their weapons.
"I expected no less." Pelial stares you straight in the eye. "Will you confirm those oaths in a gathering of our brethren? We meet in Laurence's cathedral in three hours. Laurence himself will be there to hear your vows, and they will be recorded in the books of Heaven."
"I will attend, that Lawrence and Heaven may know my vows, and my virtue."