The Omega Existence

Chapter 7

“You ignored the decree Rakael,” Raphael was not pleased. Rakael’s focus remained on the marbled floor as it had since Raphael had summoned him to the roof of his Keep.

Raphael lounged in his glorious throne seemingly relaxed, except for the scrutinizing attention he gave the highest ranked angel in his Choir. The barrage of light that filled this plane reflected against his throne in a rainbow of colours that shone against the marbled wall of the keep.

“You disapprove of my actions Arch?” Raphael thought on the question and sighed.

“I do not. You will come to me before making such decisions in the future. Remember, we are above our fallen comrades, we are not to be drawn into their squabbling.” He also did not want any undue attention from the Ophanim.

“You cannot be blamed for something Arch, if it is not of your knowledge,” Pausing for a moment Raphael contemplated his angel’s explanation. Would such a case spare him from punishment? Perhaps. Would it be worth the perception born from it that he lacked control over his own choir? No, it wouldn’t.

“Your concern for me is noted, and I thank you; however, it is not your place to decide what is and isn’t best for me to know.”

“Yes Arch.” Rakael’s dark waves of hair washed over his figure as he nodded. A single pure tear travelled down his left cheek and followed the line of his Jaw. Raphael saw a beauty that was to be cherished in that single tear. He shimmered in front of Rakael, catching the tear before it fell to the ground.

“Such love shall not be shattered against the floors of my home.” He declared as the tear sizzled against the skin of his palm. He raised his hand to his lips, kissing the tear before resting it warmly against Rakael’s shoulder.

“I know you want to spare me from taking the prophet's life. If it is necessary though, then it shall be done.”

“I know Arch, but I believe that he is also our best hope of finding the child.” Raphael turned back to see the golden throne he had sat upon but a moment earlier. The blue, velvet cushioning looked invitingly comfortable. It was covered in golden stitched, ancient blessings of wisdom, a gift from Father when he had been given instructions to create this kingdom.

“I agree,” Raphael replied. In all his wisdom and all the ages of his existence, he had never felt so blinded, so helpless. It was maddening. All they had to do is find one small child, and they couldn’t even complete such a task. Raphael made his way past the throne to see the clear skies of Lest’eriel, the domain that lay before the final gates of heaven. The clear blue skies painted in mimicry of Earth, a familiar sight for unfamiliar guests.

Raphael walked past his throne to the edge of the roof of his magnificent castle to look down at the city that lay below. The once barren streets now filled with wandering people, usurped from their lives, they now wandered mindlessly searching for family or friends. He would have to address them all soon.

“Arch, without help the fallen will kill him.” Raphael hadn’t even thought of how he would greet all the new souls in his city. What should he say to the humans? Welcome home, if your loved ones aren’t here, their souls are destined for hell.

“Arch?” Rakael pushed, eager for a response.

“Not before I. Do not interfere again Rakael, if it is necessary I shall take his life. I do not want any other interfering without my direct instruction.” Besides, Raphael kept to himself, the prophet was not absent protection, he had already arranged that.

“Yes Arch.” Rakael agreed as he stood just behind him, possibly joining in his view of the city. Raphael could feel his presence, and suddenly he also felt another’s. He wasn’t sure how long it had been there for.