The archangel has no place of his own yet. These things take Time. Time for the Word to affirm itself, manifest outside of its archangel in material ways. Yves calls it revelation: for certainly the Word is manifest in the great Bearer, but the word must reverberate soundly through the Symphony, sending ripples across the finely harmonized choirs. Waves roll, and eventually, Word becomes Thought becomes Act becomes Matter.
     He told Soldekai that his citadel, his marker, would one day reveal itself.
     Soldekai has had to trust in this. He walks the celestial and ethereal planes like a mendicant: nothing of his own, no place to rest his head. He can no longer hold court in Gabriel's great Citadel of Fire, unless he is doing her work.
     But he still does not know his own work. Just his Word. Maybe that is enough to sustain him.
     His Word and Galadriel.
     This day, he walks in Oannes' abandoned grotto. There, Soldekai knows, he will disturb no one with his Word or his being. Brilliance may nova in the grotto, and no one would notice much.
     Hands on his hips, Soldekai sighs as he looks around the serene scene at the grotto, the waters perfectly watery and perfectly still. He moves to a large, flat rock and takes a seat to stare at the gleaming aquamarine color below.

     Once Upon a Moment, for it is impossible to assign Time to the Timeless, an ancient angel presented her-himself to you. You swam in the waters. You came here right after your investment, wasn't it? And you were greeted, some say blessed, by the rare appearance of Archangel Uriel.
     Uriel has not manifested since. Perhaps there has been no need. Since then, Oannes' abandoned grotto has become a focus for pilgrimage. Those angels of Uriel who have never truly found their purpose since His-Her departure have come here, hoping for some sign, some sight of Him-Her.
     Urfiel, Uncomfortably of The Sword as he has been since Lawrence's investiture and Uriel's disappearance, has been chief among those who have visited here. But Uriel has not show himself to his former lieutenant. He has only shown himself to you.
     You are alone. At least you are alone for a block of Existence, where your great unfolding of Yourself may not blind the casual angelic spectator. But from overhead, and angel was landing. There is the sound of armor chiming, a sword rattling in a sheath. And then a gasp.
     That is, if angels may gasp...
      Shadowy, the 'figure' of an old Malachim is taken aback by a nova, and smacks against the surface of the pool, missing his intended 'runway' of smooth stone by some ten yards. A big pebble in a pool. Water is displaced with a symphonic splash.

     Soldekai looks up and winces. Bad landing. He blinks a million times in an instant, one leg folding in front of himself. He stares at the gaping disruption in the lagoon, waiting for the owner to reveal himself.
     Not that he doesn't know. He's just content to wait.

     "May the Lord Grace me," the Malachim dryly sputters, lifting from the water to the surface of it, great violet wings moving shadows of colors, like illuminated smoke. Urfiel. A sense of humor? What is happening? Is it the end of the world?
     Surely you would have gotten the memo had Hell frozen over...
     The shadowy head, with its beautiful features, bows. "I apologize for disrupting your Solitude, Archangel." Such officiousness for such an old friend. But you are given more than respect, your due is it not? Urfiel rises from his bow, the pool and soggily lands upon a stone. "I had hoped it would be my Fortune to see you in the Great Unknown Sometime..."

     "You can see me any time, Violeteen," Soldekai smirks. It was seeing you that first brought him to Clearwater and before the poet-musician at the Mucky Duck. "Are you alright?" he asks, more polite than anything else. "And you're not disturbing anything," unfortunately. Archangels aren't allowed to lead combat missions or get into the daily lives of mortals. They're supposed to 'manage'.
     Fun, fun.
     Now his team works without him. Not that they need him really. They are all perfectly competent.
     Perfectly competent for Gabriel.
     "Things alright, huh?" Soldekai asks.

     He invented the Non-committal shrug. "I am humbled," he mutters, hands and wings and armor resettling. Dusky aspect is turned toward you, eyes of meteorite flare. "But otherwise well. It's good to see you. You are well?" He wonders this, as an old friend. "I understand that Galadriel has made a chariot team out of Michael's lions." There is a small smile granted the unpredictable cherub. He is... odd. But he keeps things interesting.
     Urfiel moves to your rock, but he doesn't place himself as your peer, or above you on the rock. He kneels, hands resting easily on his thighs, wings folded back. "Soldekai..." Pause. "Archangel," he intones, "... you know I greatly admire you, that there are few I would join with, ally with without hesitation. I... do not know how it may be. But if you would accept me..." Urfiel is offering..?
     "...I would offer myself to your Cause and to your Word. You ... instill in the Universe a light that has been missing for eons. You fill a void left gaping by the loss of Raphael, Lucifer and Uriel. I believe it is in the restoration of Light and in Light that Our Ultimate Salvation be found. The Sword is not the way. I do not believe it ever was."

     While the Symphony says much, it revolves around acting. Not thinking. He hasn't met an angel yet that can read minds.
     Well, save maybe Yves.
     Soldekai looks a little confused, and reaches out a broad hand toward you. "What...okay...stop, Urfiel," and move over here to sit. "What are you talking about? Here, that doesn't look comfortable. Sit here," he motions, next to him. Like always. Like normal.

     He joins you after a moment. He sits with you like an old friend, not a servant. Not Yet. Urfiel looks to you, Purity a shimmer against his cheeks. One of the original zealots, he was. Once. The Old Veteran, as Michael calls him, subjugated and punished, in a way, when Uriel left him. When Uriel left all of Them. "I am sorry to leap in, but I know no other way." He looks to the sky above and he leans back on his hands. "I want to be the first to join your ranks," Urfiel explains. Simply. Directly.

     "Okay," Soldekai says slowly, nodding his head. No one's asked. No one's said how this happens. Nor is he certain about having a choir around him. It seems almost...egotistical. Though, this system is ingrained in his very being. His place in it is wholly different now.
     "Well, um..." Soldekai bobs his head, "...thank you..." for your application? No. "Thank you...for wanting to be..." on my team, "...well, with me. I am...honored," he laughs nervously. It's hard to be on the New Team.
     "You're great, Urfiel," Soldekai smiles. "I'm glad...you'd consider me. Um, my Word."
     "Um, why do you want to..." be with the New Team. The Last Place Team. The Team of One...Now Two? "I mean, you have...a good choir and you do good work for the Sword."

     "When Purity ... was," banished? punished? called to God? "...gone from Us, many of Us wondered about Our destiny. Many of Us joined the Sword, were absorbed into this new Word not because it 'fit' Our energies, but because ... well... we had no other place to go, Soldekai. But the Sword and I have always... struggled. I was Uriel's Cardinal," like Chamberlain, "...and I was thought to have succeeded him but Purity ... Purity went away. I have tried to work with Lawrence but our vision has never been the same. We have always had an... interesting? relationship, and no one wanted to intercede in his work," meaning the other archangels, "...and so...many of Us, myself included, have been drifting."
     His eyes drift from the sky above to you. "When you ascended, when Brilliance was named among the firmament, We took hope. Hope that We would again have a home. A better fit for Us than the Sword has been." We, always We. He speaks in the plural. "For there are many of Us who have languished without a true Calling since Uriel was taken to God. We waited, we waited for a millennium. And I think We, at last, have had our prayers answered."

     Soldekai's eyes drop to the stone upon which he sits. He had not thought of things as you say. That there are others who wish a new home. Who would want to be with him and his Word. "I am not Uriel," Soldekai says softly. "I am...not like glorious Uriel, who sits with God." So you know. He shrugs and smiles. "I am...myself." Unchanged in my ways, yet Brilliant. At least, that is what I have been told.
     "I would be happy...to have new friends. We will...start together. If everyone would like." Soldekai smiles sweetly again. From Leader to Servant in a blink.

     "I know," Urfiel smiles. "You are not. Nor am I. None but Himself are so. But you are You. You need be nothing more. You are Brilliant Soldekai, He Who Lights The Way. And We... I," he corrects, "... would be honored to hold a candle." Small and flickering we may be, but in a Multitude we are the Light of God, no? "I would like," he nods, he confirms. "And I will tell them." A grin. "Quietly. We would not mass exodus. You to light the way. I to forge a path. They will follow. Each in their own time. But I will tell them," Urfiel whispers. "So," he looks back up to the sky, "... I wonder what comes next..." And he grins, he even laughs. He never laughed when he served Lawrence.

     Lighting A Way. Not fighting for it. Simply Existing and moving forth. Can there be such flickering and growing in being still? A new lesson is in this.
     Soldekai continues to smile, as if suddenly comfited. Understanding now. "I don't know. I guess...we...find things to do. To help." In our new Way, with new Words.

     Simple isn't it. Existing. Transcending. It is not in a weapon, it is not to be fought for. Peace is in stillness. Peace is in simply knowing and understanding God. There is no room for War in that thought and in that Understanding. War happens when the connection is lost.
     Urfiel half reclines back, leaning on his elbows. "Light the way," he mulls. Light the way. "It is not merely showing the Light but being the Light... maybe... we should just... Be. The Truth will manifest, yes? Yes." He looks to you. Urfiel nods. It moves over him. Your Light. When he carries that Light, that Illumination to earth, it will change him. It will become him. He will shine.

     Soldekai looks to the water again, thoughts flooding his quiet. "Okay," he finally whispers, agreeing. Submitting. He really knows not where he goes. It occurs to him that he is on an utterly new path.
     Soldekai smiles again, but he is nervous. But the grotto is silent now, and he wonders whether Oannes can hear him...

Posted by rowan at September 06, 2003 07:30 PM