Ruling Princes Book One: Metatron

Chapter One

 The sun slowly slipped behind the distant purple mountains - signaling the end of yet another long and hard day of work. The vast viridian forest is bathed in the colors of orange, purple, and red. Once the sun has truly slipped behind the mountains, a big chunk of white rock - which is mostly known as the moon - rose into the sky, casting its silver beams of light down on earth. Soon, the stars - the moon's faithful companions- made their appearance as well. Somewhere, standing at the highest peak on Earth, stood a winged-figure clan a pearl-white toga with a blood red chlamys draping down his shoulders. He retracted his blood red wings and hid them. Crimson bangs framing his face swayed as a cold gust of wind blew. Very slowly, he sat at the edge of the cliff; legs dangling off the edge. Piercing burgundy eyes scrutinized their surrounding, observing anything out of the ordinary. A demon perhaps. But none came. 

       "Perhaps even demons need a break..." the man mused, He then tilts his head back and watches the stars in interest. Those tiny little balls of fire seem to keep blinking on and off like a light bulb. nevertheless, they're beautiful. He breathed in, and slowly brathed out before surveying the area once more. "Nothing out of the ordinary...." Seeing that nothing interesting will happen, he tilts his head back to watch the stars.

       His mind made its own trip to lala land. Or meditating would be a better term. In peaceful nights like this, his mind should be in peace, but it wasn't. He fears that his mind is getting over-active. it always goes back to this little problem of his. Just what is his problem?

       He's empty.

       Why?

       There's this invisible gap in his chest that can not be filled no matter how honored he is to serve under God as his Chief Angel, no matter how fun it is to be in the company of his fellow angels, no matter how proud he feels when man would fulfill God's plans... Years, decades, centuries, millennia have passed, yet this realization has just dawned on him. Was he incomplete from the start? ... Such a foolish thought! God would never create something so incomplete. His creations are perfect! He brought his hand up to his chest to check if his heart is there. If he had any. He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt it.

      A pulse.

      His heart is there, alright. Beating; pumping blood. Yet, in his mind, he couldn't help but think his heart lacked something vital. It's like a puzzle with a missing piece. Bt what is this 'missing piece'? Will he be able to find it? The thought made him clutch his chest tighter.

      "What do I have to do?" He kept his gaze at the sky, awaiting an answer from Heaven or something. Even a sign will do! But none came. The angel just sighed. "What was I thinking? It's not like the answer's gonna pop out in the sky..." He scratched his head afterwards.

      "Metatron..." The blazing-haired angel looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with another angel all dressed in black: black tunic, black sandals, black chlamys, black eyes, black hair... even his wings are black! And this angel shares the same facial features with him: almond eyes, high cheek bones, protruding nose, slightly elfish ears... Only color separates them both. It was his twin. The Benevolent Archangel of Death...

       "Tzadkiel..." he mouthed. At this, said angel grinned ear-to-ear.

        "Where were you?" the black angel appeared beside his twin, legs dangling off the edge of the cliff as well. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

        "I've retreated to a quiet place to meditate, brother." Metatron lets his hand fall limply to his side.

        "Right... or more like beig the little introvert would be a better term." Metatron glared daggers at his twin brother for that. The reaction must mean that Tzadkiel had struck a nerve. "So I was right, huh?" God's Chief Angel looked away, making him roll his eyes. "Come on, Metatron!" Socializing won't kill you."