The Empty World | The Empty World Sequence [complete | rewriting]

Two (Draft 3) "Mentors"

"One of the Seraphim," Morpheus said. He was getting better at distinguishing the specific Orders within the three triads. Seraphim were usually recognizable by six-part wings

The Angel, bare-chested and having gold and brown coloring, reclined on a low couch outside the house. "You're blocking my sun," he said to Laudanum.

Laudanum quickly stepped aside. "I beg your pardon, Ra."

The Angel hissed a laugh. "I do not often get that nickname. It was a mistake you know. The Sun, yes, but I was never known to spend time in Egypt. Must have had something to do with one of Lucifer or Tristopher's plots to elevate Eros to a higher rank. Anyway, come sit down." He turned to the other Angel, who was likely from the lower Orders by his slight build, "Fetch us something to eat, Remi!"

"As you wish, Raf," said the smaller Angel, then ran off toward the house, orange wings fluttering behind.

Absinthe led Morpheus to the couch. "This is my cousin-nephew," she said.

"Ah, a creature from The Allegory if I ever saw one. A youth sent to us from the gates of karas, no, elphas! This one is sent to counterfeit forms."

The one called Remi suddenly popped into being, tray of glasses humming and rattling, just in time to burst into bubbly laughter.

"I'm not actually from Dream," Morpheus said quietly.

"American?" the one called Raf asked. "Of course, your mother passed from her father's house to that of her love, but I know Dream's creatures when I see them. I was Regent of Dream, for a little while, before I shifted to the fallen one's rank. Before Jibril was created to take my place."

"You are that Raf? Archon Raphael?" asked Morpheus, another memory gaining context.

"I am. We've got so many names by now. Rather makes one regret not leaving the people of Babyl to their ambitions. We must have had a good reason not to."

"Nephillim Spawn infestation," Remi whispered.

"Oh, yes." Raphael turned and took a bunch of grapes from the tray. "Here," he said, "have something to eat, talk. Remiel will fetch what you require. Don't worry about Hyacinth there, he's not one of those ambitious boys, just hedonistic."

Remiel laughed, again.

Raphael took up his lyre and sang several amusing stories for them. Remiel laughed at them all.

It seemed to Morpheus that Raphael was likewise hedonistic. Wherever it did not interfere with being righteous, he took pleasure. His stories indicated he had been living in Greece many Earth years. He apparently allowed Remiel to hang on and didn't mind Hyacinth, though he said the young man had other interests. Raphael told a lot of jokes:

"What does a Venusian do at a stop sign?" he asked.

"I've no idea!" said Remiel.

"What stop sign?" Raphael broke into snickering, sibilant laughter.

Absinthe had to explain that before it got so very hot Venus had been a popular place for racing. Now, she said, Venus was an awful lot like the image of Hell the Europeans would be creating; hot and smelling of sulfur. Not that Hell had anything to do with Venus, except perhaps that Lucifer was associated with both.

Jokes weren't funny when they had to be explained.

As the sun began to set, Morpheus left the others to watch from the nearby cliff. He'd been living in a land of permanent twilight and had never seen a sunset, just a troubled Manhatten skyline that one time.