For We Are Many: Chapter One

My first memory was a blinding light. That and a sense of vertigo as I found myself flat on my ass. Angels are created beings so immediately there is intelligence and awareness. There is not, however, context. So here I was in the middle of a huge square, the light was blinding, the noise was deafening...and I was still flat on my ass trying to register it all. It was like wakening from a dream, only the dream was my former non existence...and it was a blank with no memory of what that dream was. So I sat there for a few moments trying to get a grasp on my surroundings.

As I looked around I noticed it was a clear day. I remember the freshness of those first moments. There are no words to describe the moment of perfect innocence and sense of being. Those first moments are magical ones that a human will never experience because of the aging from infancy process in which their finite minds adapt and develop and their self awareness evolves.

The moment of the creation of an angel is exhilarating. You see the world in an array of color, your senses are overwhelmed, the cacophony of sounds flooding your brain as you try to understand everything all at once. I remember those moments as vividly as though it occurred yesterday rather then millennium ago. I was in the Square of Gathering, the meeting place in the Sector of Exusiai the place where the mid level angels reside. The air was clean, I remember the freshness of it so well, the scents of the Celestial City overwhelming me as I slowly came to my feet and looked around.

At my feet were crystals of assorted colors through which the light refracted creating a brilliant display, I did not know it at that moment but the areas of the City were divided by ranks and the ranks denoted by colors and the colors displayed in the crystals which paved the City. Flecks of gold muted the brightness of the crystals some allowing the eye to see beyond the brightness, but resulted in a somewhat glitter look to it over all. Where I was currently standing in the Sector of Exusiai the pavement was made of crystals the color of amethyst, flecked with gold and the effect was beyond expression. No matter what rank I ever attained there was just something about the decor of that first sight that stayed with me forever.

Looking up I saw the trees sway with the wind, but this wind was different, I knew this instinctively. This was an outward demonstration of the energy I could feel running through me and around me. As the energy flowed I immediately felt two things. First I felt the power of it all and understood on a level that was impossible to explain that this power was a part of me. The power of the energy filled me and sustained me. I was dependant on it and on some level...it was dependant on me. The second thing I felt was love; intense love that was part of my very being. The very fibers of my essence were consumed with this passionate emotion in a way that I did not understand or comprehend. Looking back now I understand it as what the Fallen call The Compulsion. It is the emotional bind to The Source that forces us to feel a passionate embrace of it, a need to defend it, obey it and if need be even die for it. It was, for a moment, all consuming, my mind could not even make sense of it or comprehend what happening as the chains of Source clamped down on me...binding me to its will and whim. What I saw as love in my naiveté was indeed the willing acceptance of slavery; however, millennia would pass before I came to see it for what it was and for the moment it was perpetual bliss....the type of bliss that only ignorance can bring.

The next thing I noticed was that I was not alone. There were others like me. Countless hosts of others that were just like me...different in personality and different in appearance but of the same mind and in the same mission...though I had not yet an understanding of what that mission was and what it would entail. I could sense their presence. I could feel their emotions. How I did not know...but there was a harmony to it that rang comfortingly through my being and I knew that all was well.

"Welcome Brother" were the first words I heard as a hand was laid on my shoulder. Instinctively I swung around shoulder dipping down and away as I dropped into a crouch, out of the corner of my eyes a white substance distracted me as it furled out and then curled in towards me my hand swung out towards it till I realized....it was part of me...and the first thought that crossed my mind was, "What is that?" followed closely by "Where did it come from?" I looked up inquisitively at the Angel that stood before me as he just smiled and said, "My name is Ramliel and those, Michessian...are your wings."
I just looked at him confused for a moment. Michessian must be my name and well…wings. “What are the wings for?” I asked him. Ramliel replied, “They are for defense, for combat and for travel. You will learn how to use them with time. Your reflexes and instinct are impressive. Michael will be impressed no doubt.” Ramliel spoke with a matter of fact manner that I liked. “My purpose is to acquaint you with the City, answer any questions you may have and put you in the right hands for training.” Well of course that made me curious, “training? Training for what?” Remliel replied, “Michessian you were created as a combat angel. You are one of the Exusiai, created with great power and energy bound up in you. You will be trained by the Arcs to fulfill your designated role in service to The Source.”

Combat. I remember thinking how was it possible that in such a place of perfection and boundless love that there was combat or need for violence. I remember asking Remliel what sort of situation would require violence when the world I saw around us was so perfect. “It is the rebellion,” he replied with a voice mixed with anger, disgust and sadness. “A former Arc and high ranking angel of the First Division has lost his way and turned against The Source. His numbers grow as does his strength. We are forced to defend ourselves and the creations of The Source. The need for organizing our forces has come. Strategists and skilled combatants have become necessary and as always, The Source provides what we need.”

“The Source?”

“The Source is all around us,” replied Remliel, “it flows through us. The Source is what gives us strength and sustains us. While other creations of The Source require physical means of sustenance we are bound to the energy of The Source it gives us strength and gives us abilities that other creations do not have. The Source is supreme and we serve its purpose, our orders come down the ranks from those closest to The Source, one such is the Arc Michael, Commander of the Host and Seraphiel, the most ancient of us.”

As we walked across the Square, I looked over my shoulder at the wings. They were really cool. They moved instinctively furling and unfurling. They seemed functional, not just cosmetic as most mankind has made them seem. The wings are energy and are for travel, defense and offense. They were light…did not feel like they were even there, but my mind knew they were and as I moved they furled behind me gracefully. Very cool! I followed Remliel and observed him as he walked. He was unimposing and did not strike me as a warrior. How I knew this I don’t know, but I did. Remliel was dark skinned different from me I noticed…at least this Source wasn’t boring and monotonous.

We exited the square and the colors began to change as we walked along the street the crystals were now a mixture of amber and clear with gold flecks scattered through it to mute the refraction of the light, the combination having the appearance of the street being paved of gold. The City appeared to be built with a circular format as the street we now traversed turned in an unending circle. Around us The Host moved about in perfect harmony. There was no hustling and bumping and pushing despite the fact that there was a multitude traveling that could not be numbered.

It was here that the true diversity of the Host began to become clear as well as the energy that flows through the City. As I followed Remliel I could see Angels whose eyes seemed to burn with fire, others that seemed to flow like water…still more seemed as though the very elements stormed around them. And while the Host mingled, without any specific awe or reverence for any of the others, there were some that walked with an air of command, and others seemed to respect them and respect their space.

The City itself seemed to flow with the elements. The power of The Source truly did permeate everything and such power cannot be hidden; it must manifest itself in some manner. The City itself seemed to crackle with immense energy as the wind blew threw the City weaving sometimes delicately and at others as a mighty rushing wind. The light was intensely brilliant, refracted as it was with the crystals and gems that seemed to be the material the entire City was built of.

I followed Ramliel as we turned down a street, its name escapes me now, but it led to a wide open square, the Square of Attunement, as I recall. Here scores of angels thrust and parried with various weapons leaping, rolling and dancing reflexively as they practiced combat. The square was a muted black, which surprised me in this City. It seemed as though that color would have no place in the City but there it was. The ground was black, like onyx, with the same gold flecks that seemed to be the one constant through the City. Azazel, the smartest amongst us millennia after, theorized that the gold served as a conductor for the energy, but it was all theory since we never made it back to the City to test it.

Remliel led me to the far end of the courtyard to a small pavilion that stood on a slightly elevated platform. In it were two angels in deep discussion and these stood out as different. They were powerful, this much was obvious, and of a higher ranking than any of the others I had seen. They moved with an air of confidence and command. They did not acknowledge us immediately and Remliel stopped at a distance and nodded in their direction, “Michael and Raguel.” He said as he pointed from left to right. “Michael, as I mentioned before, is the Commander of the The Host. Raguel is the angel that in charge of ordinances, policies and rules of conduct. The Source’s commands for combat go through Michael and The Source’s commands for behavior go through Raguel.”

I watched them as they talked and I remember thinking that neither of them looked like much fun. Michael was obviously strong. He wore a white robe but wore a breastplate made from a light alloy with an engraving of wings with a flames emanating from them. He wore wrist bands and had a crown of sorts that seemed to denote rank. His wings furled and unfurled almost restlessly. His skin was pale and his hair was golden. I recall his eyes were amber and seemed to burn with a flame, a sure sign of an angel of the First Division, as I came to discover later, A Seraph to be exact. Raguel, on the other hand, was darker than but not as dark as Remliel. Dark eyes and hair completed the contrast to the fairer Michael. His eyes burned with the same inner flame denoting he was also of the First Division, an Erelim, and the crown seemed to be almost identical to that of Michael. He, however, wore no armor. I remember the first time Raguel looked at me; I suddenly felt the need to stand taller and straighter. That sentiment never really changed. Raguel just made you feel that way.

While we watched them, I glanced over at Remliel and as I did I saw something coming at me quickly in the corner of my eye, instinctively I ducked down and away, my right wing furled out and crackled with energy as my right hand reached instinctively out at the blade that was hurtling towards me. Spinning with the momentum I grabbed the hilt of the blade as it sailed at me completing the spin in a crouch my wings furled defensively as a shield. Facing the originating grid I found myself looking into the flaming amber eyes of Michael. “Not bad instincts and reaction for having just experienced the Awakening. Greetings Remliel is good to see you my friend, who is this new recruit?”

“Michael.” Remliel nodded in greeting, “this is Michessian our newest addition, granted to us by The Source. He is of the Exusiai rank and will be an excellent addition to the Host.” Looking back at me Remliel said, “Michessian, I will always be about if you have any questions.” With that he spread his wings and headed off back across the square.

As Remliel departed Michael spoke, “Michessian you are of the Exusiai, do you understand what that means and what that entails?”

“Remliel stated that my training would be for combat, other than that I know nothing.”

“Combat is only part of it. The rank and file angels are the grunts we throw at walls of blades and exploding energies. They are for combat. The Exusiai are more than that. They are born leaders. They are the elite members of The Host and are the strategists, commanders and combat trainers and leaders. Much is expected of you, my friend, I hope you are up to the task. Our enemy is determined, empowered and growing.”

That is when Michael went more into depth on this war we were fighting. As it turns out, before I was created, a high ranking Arc named Semjaza was sent by The Source with a contingent of angels that were commanded to protect the jewel interest of The Source a creature known to us as man. This creature was the chosen expression of The Source, said to be created in its image and was to be defended at all cost. The Source did not explain what the Watchers or the Grigori, as they became known, were protecting man from. Their orders were to watch and protect but not interfere in any way other than defense. Direct contact was expressly forbidden and was clearly an offense punishable with damnation.

As time transpired, a subtle change came over the Watchers. They began seeing the daughters of men as something to be desired. They considered their options and in a twisted logic began to think they would be able to better defend man if they were to better understand them, even become a part of them. Having decided this they mingled with the daughters of men and produced an offspring that was both horrific and awesome.

Michael went on to explain that no reasoning had been found on why the Grigori would so desire the daughters of men. The creation was considered infinitely inferior by most angels, weak bodies and minds with no abnormal powers or attributes. What would lead them to choose these beings over the power of The Source and the sense of belonging in The Host was something that seemed to puzzle most angels.

Once the nature of the offspring of this cursed union was discovered they too became hunted by the Host and targeted by The Source for elimination. The Nephilim, as they became known, were giants. Most people that read the sacred writings for centuries, even millennia, assumed that the word “giants” merely meant they were giants in size, but it was much more than that. It was in the Nephilim that we began to comprehend the true nature of man.

As angels we have abilities, abilities that man can only fantasize about, imagine and talk about in myths and legends. We can travel at the speed of thought, mold and move energy at will, fight powers beyond their comprehension and rule from the heights of Heaven. But for all our power, the very means that interconnects us, and makes us a powerful unit, also hampers individuality and creativity. This is not to say that we cannot think and act on our own. We are not automatons. We are not mere robots, programmed and then released to fulfill our mission. We are not all smaller parts of a bigger machine. We do see ourselves as individuals and we do operate on a free will basis…in a manner of speaking.

But the nature of The Harmony puts our thoughts available to one another, puts our emotions and feelings out there. The very vibrations sent across this network allow us to feel the thoughts and emotions of our brothers, even of our enemies. Because of this constant proximity some of the ability for independent thought is hampered since we are inevitably influenced somewhat by those around us. Man, on the other hand, has complete individuality and free thought. Man is completely independent if he so chooses. Only he can give up his independence of thought.

So consider for a moment a combination of both creations. A creature capable of molding energy at will, moving at the speed of thought, in every way equal to an angel excepting being able to draw directly from the source and communicate or even sense The Harmony. This creature, given a sense of complete independence with a free rein on creativity would be a dangerous and unpredictable prey to hunt. Many incursion I lead proved this truth to me time and time again.

As the war continued the host discovered several things that became of concern.  First, the Nephilim are not easy to hunt and are even harder to kill.  Azazel began teaching the Nephilim the art of making weapons, of using their powers and how to channel the energy in them, and that of the world around them.  Others of the Fallen began passing on secrets that were intended only for the host.  As a result, the Nephilim became a threat to us; a serious threat.

Second, the Host noticed that the Fallen did not run out of energy.  See the Host had never considered rebellion for fear that rebelling against the Source would result in being cut of from the source of our life and sustenance.  Without the Source we cannot survive.  But as the Fallen survived, and not only survived but flourished the subtle thoughts of rebellion that previously were ignored or tossed aside out right began to last a little longer in the minds of some.  As a result there began to be an increase of defections. 

This was a concept I could not wrap my mind around.  Why would anybody leave a place so wonderful and perfect? In my innocence I could never imagine anything that would make me want to leave.  Even after timeless eternity and numerous skirmishes and battle I never did want to leave the City or abandon the Source. Even when that dark day came and the world came crashing down around us, I did not want to leave.  But then, by that time the choice was no longer mine.  But I am getting ahead of myself.

As angels began defecting from the host, it became necessary for the Source to provide more angels to fill the gaps as Michael and the other commanders of the host began organizing and training for something no angel had ever trained for before: combat. 

It was at this point that Michael turned to the other angel that had disappeared for a while but was now returning to the pavilion where the Arc and I were seated.  As the angel approached, Michael gripped his forearm in greeting, “Raguel, my Brother, meet Michessian, a newly acquired Exusiai and a new brother in the host.” Looking at me he added, “Michessian, this is the Arc Raguel, chief of the Erelim and one of the greatest leaders of the Host.”  Standing as He approached I reached out and gripped his forearm in greeting as I had seen Michael do.  As I said before, there was just something about Raguel that made you mentally check yourself and hope there was nothing in your teeth.  He was proper and his voice was soft.  I always felt Raguel spoke softly intentionally, in order to force you to lean slightly forward to catch what he was saying.  It was kind of his way of being sure that you were paying attention to what he was saying. 

“Welcome Michessian.  I trust you are grasping all the information.  There is much to learn and very little time to learn it.” He smiled as his watchful eyes seemed to catch everything around us.  Raguel was known as the angel of God.  He was, as Michael had already said, one of the Erelim, chief of the Erelim to be exact. 

The host was divided into three basic branches reflecting three basic divisions of responsibility among angels.  These three responsibilities were combat, government (or management) and communication.  The number three was very important to the Source and as a result to the host and always seemed to sneak up at some point or another.  The Esiasch, commonly known as The Council of Brothers, consisted of the most ancient and most powerful of us.

Metatron was the most powerful warrior in the host and was in charge of the combat branch of the angels.  He was the guardian of the tree of life.  Ancient manuscripts speak of an angel that guarded the pathway back to the tree that granted eternal life with a sword of fire.  That angel was Metatron.  I rarely ever saw Metatron as he was definitely way above my rank and was frequently in direct contact with the Source.  I remember Michael spoke of him on occasion and the mighty Seraph spoke of Metatron in the hushed tones of reverent hero worship.  Metatron commanded an awesome presence and you felt as though the entire host was in his huge fist.  His blade was a truly fiersome thing to watch in action. The Seraphim, led by Michael, were the only ones that interacted directly and frequently with Metatron. 

Seraphiel was the chief angel of government and quite frankly the most powerful figure in the City under the Source.  I remember seeing him on occasion.  He was Raguel’s immediate boss and so different from Raguel.  Whereas Raguel made you want to stand at attention and smooth out your robes, Seraphiel was kindly and gentle.  There was wisdom but compassion in his eyes.  Seraphiel had the ear of the Source, more so than any of the Council, and he spent more time in direct contact with the Source.  I always thought Raguel and his subordinates could learn a lot from Seraphiel if they would take the time.

Melchizedeck was the final member of the council and was responsible for communication and as a result the government of mankind.  Melchizedeck was a force to be reckoned with.  Of the three, Melchizedeck was the most proactive and energetic.  He had an explosive temper and everybody knew when he was pissed to clear out his way.  The Cherubim reported to him and were the messengers led by the Cherub Arc Gabriel.  Melchizedeck was known as the Angel of Peace and was the only one of the Council to interact with mankind, often disguising himself as one of them to walk among them.

These three formed the Esiasch and pretty much ran things in the name of the Source.  Angels learned early on a healthy respect for them.  Michael often told me that the power of the cosmos were wrapped up in those three and that they commanded so much energy from the Source that no living being would ever be able to successfully stand against them.  They rarely to part in combat, but whenever they chose to, the outcome was fairly predictable.

Under the Esiasch, the host was divided in three divisions.  In our language we called them “Yrpoil”.  The Host is set up in a caste system and there is no real change of caste.  The divisions were the castes and in each Yrpoil there were three branches, each representing the three responsibilities of the Host.  The Elo Yrpoil, or first division, consisted of the Seraphim which were the warrior branch, the Erelim which were the governing branch and the Cherubim which were the communications branch.  Under the Elo Yrpoil was the Viv Yrpoil, or second division.  This consisted of the Exusiai which were the warrior branch, of which I was a part, the Kyriotetai which were the governing branch and the Dynamai which were the communications branch.  Under the Viv Yrpoil was the D Yrpoil, or third division.  The third division consisted of the Polemitis which were the rank and file warrior and combat angels, the Tabaan which were the governing branch and the Malakhim which were the messenger angels.

Michael and Raguel spoke for a few minutes and then Michael looked at me and said, “Michessian go to the small office across the training grounds here and inquire for Jophiel and tell her I sent you.  Johpiel will assign you quarters.  Once you are settled take some time to explore the city and get to know your way around.  I have some duties to perform but your training must begin soon, we have much to accomplish.”  And with that I was dismissed.

Moving across the training grounds I was by myself for the first time since my awakening, that moment I had gained consciousness and awareness.  I had much to absorb and consider and I remember feeling slightly overwhelmed.  As I walked I remember watching the angels around me as in groups they wielded weapons of brilliant energy jumping and moving with agility and grace and I felt an urge to join them but knew I was far from ready.  I reached the office Michael had indicated and as I entered I asked the first angel I met where I might find Jophiel.  Following the direction they pointed I entered a room and was impressed at the organization that I noticed all around me.  Whereas outside on the training grounds controlled chaos seemed to reign, in here there was order and peaceful silence. 

As I entered the room I noticed an angel across the room with her back towards me as he observed something on a desk, a scroll of some sort.  I cleared my throat and said, ‘Excuse me, I am Michessian and I was sent here by the Arc Michael to ask for Jophiel?”

Jophiel turned around and nodded with a smile.  She was my height, graceful with a friendly smile.  I remember the fact that she seemed to check to be sure I didn’t bring any mess in with me.  Jophiel as I came to find out was a neat freak and very particular where things went in her office.  She was of the Erelim, and worked in tandem with the Seraphim as part of organizing new arrivals around the City. 

“Michessian as one of the Exusiai you will be housed in the second ring of the city.  “You will be sharing quarters with another angel named Malchediel, “ she said as she handed me the necessary guide and told me to go and make myself comfortable then report to the parade grounds on the outskirts of the city, just outside the gates.  I left and began exploring the city…and wow…what a city it was.