((Authors Note:

First, in case you aren't aware of this already, this storyline has a religious foundation. It deviates from the religious in that it deals with the angelic like any other race of beings rather than merely holy deities sent by God. The angelic hierarchy has been based upon a myriad of Judaic, Talmudic and Christian texts, however the hierarchy used in this story is fictionalized and not based on any one particular religion or time frame.

If you are of an extremely religious nature you may find this storyline distasteful, you are warned not to read it. We are not writing this to offend anyone.

Those under the age of eighteen are encouraged to seek religious understanding of their own and not base what they think they know on the following. This is a fictionalized accounting, not real, simply created from the minds of the writers and not intended to be considered a theological text.

We are not supporting any particular religious point of view. Again, let me reiterate that this is fiction and the Angelic are being treated much like any other race.

Thanks))

Imprisoning Mab Part 1

There was a time of innocents, when the world was new and the beings crafted by the hands of the Great Architect frolicked like children upon the pristine wilderness. There were no boundaries then, no rules, no constraints; it was a place where physical pleasures abound, something the creatures of energy had never before known. Many were beguiled and seduced by this new realm, hungry to taste every aspect and it is here where our story truly begins.

Memories: They flow like blood from a mortal wound, unstanchable and without control. They are snapshots of experiences encapsulated by times long past. Images, words, the emotions of the moments; they are like ghosts haunting, forever weaving their threads into perceptions that influence choices made in the present and future. The past cannot be forgotten because it inspires the wisdoms that mold what happens today.

All that has gone before shapes the future that is to come.

Raphael, "God has Healed" his Seraph title, was sitting beside a fresh water pond; the air around him is quiet, calm, empty of breeze or the sounds of insects and animals. He has been charged to nurture the life already developing in this grand new world. Fingers dip in to the pond, trailing waves in their wake as he senses the life already teaming inside.

It was Morningstar who had suggested this physical form; two legs, two arms, fingers and toes, a torso, a head with eyes, ears and a mouth. Morningstar had made it seem that this is the only way to utterly experience the physical, by taking on a form that can enjoy every aspect. How had Morningstar known" It is a question that may forever remain unanswered.

Morningstar, as Angelic history claims, was created to be the Great Architect's companion; they were supposedly equal in talent and thought. Yet the Great Architect spoke only to the Seraph through Michael, "Who is as God", whereas Morningstar adapted a comfortable fa"ade that allowed him to mingle with the Seraph, speak with them, enlighten them, instruct them. It was Morningstar to whom most of the Seraph looked when in doubt or in time of need. Michael always seemed distant and preoccupied, hard to commune with, lost to his contemplations or conversations which left the others out. Of the seven Seraphs; Michael was the least accessible.

At this time in Angelic history, the seven Seraphs were comprised of Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Raziel, Uriel, Chamuel, and Raguel. Morningstar and Azrael, although both Seraph, were not of the High Council, but considered to stand alone in their duties.

Michael, "Who is as God", communicated with the Great Architect, passing the information, when needed, on to the others. Gabriel, "Gods Strength", was in fact the carrier of death, the bringer of God's vengeance. (Unfortunately at this time in their history there were none yet to punish.) Raphael's, "God has Healed", duties comprised of bringing life, of gifting energy; his job was to maintain the Seraph should any harm befall them and to nurture the life that the Great Architect wished to breathe in to existence. Raziel, "Secret of God", held all knowledge, be it arcane or Angelic. Raziel had been set to keep the secrets of their race, so that none can use them for nefarious purpose. Uriel, "God's Fire", is the Angel of chance. It is Uriel who carries the fire and nurtures the Suns. Chamuel, "He who sees God", has the honor of sight and the wisdom of foretelling. It is Chamuel that understands the mysteries of time and consequence. Raguel, "Friend of God", has the dubious pleasure of watching over the good behavior of his fellow angel's. Should Raquel notice misbehavior it is to Gabriel that he must go. Azrael is the Angel of Death, it was his job to keep tabs on all things that have lost their life-force. Azrael was not of the High Council, for it would be his job to claim their essence should such a time arrive. He was kept on the outskirts, not feared but rather scorned.

They were all still very new to their duties and their collective history slight. Until the time of creation began, the seven had very little to do but to amuse themselves amidst themselves. That had all changed when the Great Architect birthed forth the multiverse.

Suddenly more help was needed and so it is then that the Celestial Hierarchy was created. Each of the Seraph were given the power to create their own 'resources", however of the seven only two did not take such advantage; Raphael and Raziel. Neither of them felt the need to pass on their duties to others, but this behavior did not gain them favor in the eyes of the others.

It is in this midst of this chaos that Raphael finds himself sitting beside the pond, contemplating his current situation. As he draws fingers through the water he watches the ripples that trail in their wake, letting the innate life, which floods this world, fill him. It is an intoxicating experience one that he holds most precious. There is little work for him here; the life force of the planet is doing it for him. It's a mystery to the Above, how life blossoms un-nurtured, without interference or care of the Above. Yet there is no fear in Raphael, but rather a communion with that mysterious energy.

"I see you busy at work, Brother" the words come from behind Raphael, he already knows the speaker.

"Gabriel, what brings you to the physical?" Raphael doesn't look up from the ripples, nor does he turn to face the one who's come for a reason. Gabriel never does anything without a reason.

"I wanted to chat with you, Raphael. I thought it was time that we talked." Gabriel moves up to stand over the angel sitting beside the still pond. "I know you disapprove of what I am doing."

Raphael ponders what words to use in addressing this statement. It's true, he doesn't approve of Gabriel's "Legions". Raphael can't fathom a reason worthy enough that would justify what Gabriel is doing. Diplomacy among the Angelic Hierarchy is a necessity, not merely polite behavior, so he must pick and choose his words wisely.

"You know how I feel, Gabriel. There is no need for an army; we've no enemies to battle, no threat looming over us. An army insinuates otherwise." Yet, Raphael understands that, of all the Seraph, Gabriel was created to be *different*. Gabriel is "God's Vengeance"; it is he who has been assigned as their race's protector and defender. Raphael knows that mere words cannot change what has been gifted through creation.

"Yes, yes, I've heard your petty argument before, but what you fail to realize, Raphael, is Morningstar's quest for power. How is it you are so blind to his flaws?" Gabriel's voice is heated, angry, unrelenting in his pursuit to convince Raphael in the error of his judgments.

"Morningstar is behaving according to his nature, Gabriel. You above all others should understand this." Raphael spoke calmly, although the words may be harsh, the sentiment is granted with gentleness.

"You forgive all of us our flaws by excusing them. You are a blind fool, Raphael, and one of these days that's going to be your downfall."

"Is there a point to this conversation, Gabriel" For I have much left to accomplish before I return to my duties Above." Raphael wants this conversation done with, over.

"If you aren't with me, Raphael, then you're against me. Is that plain enough for you?"

"Oh, yes, Gabriel, very plain." Raphael's tone suggesting that this isn't news, he's heard it before and expects he'll hear it again. "Do what you will, Gabriel, but do not expect me to stand in support of you or your choices. I will do as I have been created to do. Is that plain enough for you?"

"Extremely." The sarcasm cutting through Gabriel's voice with the one word spoken. "You do what you are meant to and I shall do as I am."

Gabriel doesn't wait for Raphael to respond. He vanishes in a soft, hazy shimmer leaving his brother alone once again. Raphael shakes his head while his gaze continues to follow the ripples created by the drag of his fingers through the quiet surface of the pond. Gabriel is declaring war upon Morningstar; this is becoming obvious to most of the Seraph, save Michael of course, who believes that Gabriel can do no wrong. Raphael is left to wonder what the consequences will be.

Long Lankyn Progenitor of the Bloods

Asziel Part 1

Like rain drops tumbling from the heavy dark skies, one memory is followed by another. Drawing inextricably towards the present and the answers to the question of why Corwyn must do what he is about to do.

Raphael and Asziel walk side by side through the great forest. They speak in soft tones about philosophies and creative ethics as they enjoy the beauty and bounty of the physical realm. They see possibilities that the others of their brethren overlook and a bond begins to form.

At this point in Angelic History heated debates were common. Gender identity had become an issue, as had creationism Below. Some of the angelic were adapting a gender. Others were visiting the Below where they spent their time impulsively creating things that many proclaimed as *contaminants*.

On one side there were some who wanted sterner rules, stricter policies, most especially concerning the Below, (the physical realms). Morningstar argued that the Angelic had just as much right to the physical worlds as any other creature. Michael advocated duty and wanted the Below off limits for their race.

Sides were being taken and lines were drawn. The tension, that has been building all this time, is coming to a heated boil. Everything is changing for the Above.

Raphael went Below frequently these days, but it wasn't often he had companionship nor an offering of similar opinions. It is a lighthearted interlude as the pair of them ambles along but Raphael has a goal in mind, which he has yet to share with Asziel. He prefers to keep this a surprise, he wants to see her first reaction, for some reason, yet unknown to him, this moment is important, or at least it will be telling. The conversation continues delightful and inspiring, Asziel seems to be unaware that Raphael is leading them towards some place in particular.

It's a secret he's been keeping for a while, but he believes it's time for him to start sharing. He knows the direction the tide is flowing Above, the direction he'd seen from the onset of Gabriel building his "Legion". Raphael knows that war is coming, but he's not planning on taking a side. Raphael has his own ideas; he's been plotting them for a while now.

He leads her to the heart of the great forest, to a tree that looks as if it's been lit with stars. The massive, thick trunk is veined and pulses with an ethereal energy that has nothing to do with the Above. Branches unfurl dense with leaves that sparkle with an inner light, the essence of stars captured. Raphael looks from the great tree to Asziel, carefully watching her expression.

"This is the moment, the first. What comes of this will shape the future." He thinks as he watches Asziel, noting how she's staring at the tree with deep concern and puzzlement.

"Where did this come from, Raphael" You?"

"This is not of me, nor is it of any of our race, Asziel. This is of these lands, of this realm and part of its bounty."

"I don't understand" This is what they whisper about when they speak of the Mysteries?"

"Yes, Asziel, this is one of the Mysteries. It is their Tree of Life." How he had found it, he couldn't explain, he'd simply stumbled upon it on accident one day and kept it secret ever since. Raphael didn't believe that the others truly wanted proof that the Mysteries exist.

"Then it is true and they do exist' It isn't some story you made up as others accuse?" Something about her tone suggesting that this inspires fear rather than wonder.

"No, it is true, you see it before you. Do you doubt your own senses?" Raphael feels disappointment but keeps this emotion from tainting his words. He sounds, as always, gentle and reassuring.

"No, I feel that the energy is alien, but I cannot feel a link to it as you claimed is possible." Again he senses that perhaps she prefers it this way.

Raphael isn't sure how to respond to Asziel, he'd had hopes that she would feel the same bond to this energy that he has. Perhaps the others cannot feel the same because they were not made the same as he" He needs to think more on this later; right now he has another matter to address.

"Perhaps it will come in time?" This is Raphael's way of changing the topic to one of greater import to him although he recognizes that it may not grant her peace of mind. He had hoped for more from her like empathy or excitement. Fear wasn't what he had anticipated. "This realm has much to offer, Asziel, as you well know, but I think it can offer haven, sanctuary, for the times ahead. What say you??

Long Lankyn Progenitor of the Bloods

Raziel Part 1

The scene inside his mind shifts, like ripples ever widening chasing one after the other across the surface of a calm pool. The past unraveling, revealing the path that leads to this moment. Time for the Angelic flows slowly as does change; what seems to be a rapid advance of events happens at the pace of a snail's slither for the Above but it does happen. Slowly but surely even the Angelic face change.

Raphael sits atop a high cliff, in the distance smoke rises from a small, controlled fire. He watches as the smoke curls upwards towards the sky drifting hazily over the dense foliage of the forest below. From here he cannot hear the laughter or playful calls of the children of the earth, he cannot see the adults as they move through the daily rituals of their physical lives but he already knows the hardships they face. Many die young and knowledge is hard won for the people of the physical and yet it is here where he feels most at home. He knows given the opportunity that the people of the physical would benefit from the wisdom of the Angelic. Raphael feels shamed that so few Above understand this concept.

He isn't "allowed" direct contact or intervention; the rules of the Above have declared the people of the earth off limits. However there is a new movement Above that challenges these "rules". Lead by Morningstar, (of course), and gaining a sizable following; many suspect that more than the quarter that Michael insists of Angelic have joined Morningstar's "ranks". In fact many speculate that Morningstar is becoming more popular within the Choirs than Michael. Raphael realizes that the eruption between the two rivals is inevitable and fast approaching. He has no desire to participate in things to come, he has other plans.

" Ah, so this is where you escape to these days, eh?" the voice from behind is familiar and comforting.

"Raziel!" Raphael turns from his contemplation of the smoke to smile warmly to the new arrival. "Glad you found me, Brother. By the way, how did you find me?" Raphael speaks with amusement and enthusiasm; however his question is quite sincere. He not only wants the answer, but requires it. He's been working hard to shield himself from his brethren; he wants to know what went wrong.

"No worries, Raphael! I know because I hold the knowledge to know, none others can find you." Raziel assures with a quickness of empathy few of the Angelic possess. "It was imperative that we speak."

Raphael studies his friend closely, wondering what could be so important as to bring the hermit from his typical hidey hole in the Great Library. "Imperative you say' What is it, Raziel?"

"We both see what is coming, Raphael, we both realize the consequences. It is my duty as the Keeper of Angelic and Arcane Secrets to keep them safe from those who would abuse them, wouldn't you agree, Raphael?" Raziel's tone grows very serious as he joins his friend, sitting down beside him on the cool hard ground.

"I don't understand where you are going with this, Brother?" but Raphael has suspicions for he too is holding close a secret of his own. Perhaps they are the same"

"I cannot allow either side to gain access to what I hold." Raziel states simply as he looks to his friend and brethren.

"Leaving Heaven?" Raphael works to keep his voice soft and light for his words will weigh heavy enough.

"As are you. Don't think I haven't noticed, Raphael, everyone has noticed. You spend little time Above these days, its not a stretch of imagination to figure out how much you detest what?s happening. Besides, you can't fool me, I know you far too well." Raziel smiles as he says this, their bond of friendship acknowledged in those few words.

"True, nor is it my goal to fool you, my Friend." Raphael chuckles as he pats Raziel on the back in a camaraderie fashion. "Yes, I too have an exit strategy."

"It is common knowledge that the Great Architect favors the physical beings over us. Many Above grow anxious and fear like that leads to revolts. Both Michael and Morningstar are pressing me to take a side and to be honest with you, Raphael; I don't care for either any more than you do. I feel as if I don't have a choice, really. The only way to keep the "Secrets" safe from them is for them to lose access to me."

"I see your point, Raziel, but you know as well as I that neither Michael nor Morningstar will take your departure lightly. Words of betrayal will be whispered if not screamed."

"Yes, but do not forget, Raphael, that we are not alone in our struggle. I shall be safe from ramifications as will you.?

Raphael nods slowly in agreement. What Raziel says is true, they are safe from repercussions; of all the Angelic, Raphael and Raziel have nothing to fear.

Long Lankyn Progenitor of the Bloods

Michael

Like the relentless cascade of a waterfall, the memory of Raziel streams away to be replaced with one of Michael. As the spell Corwyn is weaving nears completion, his remembrances come quicker much like a movie on fast-forward. Images, scenes; his past all running forward to catch up to the now.

Raphael had been summoned to appear before Michael, he has no idea why nor does he wish to think about it. The atmosphere in Heaven is thick and heavy, ripe for an uprising and Michael didn't seem to care to stop it which made Raphael angry. Raphael has at this point lost all interest in the affairs of Heaven.

Yet to ignore the summons would create only more tension amidst the Angelic. And so it is that Raphael finds himself standing in the High Council Chambers deep inside the Heavenly Citadel. The last place he wants to be.

At this point in Angelic History, the Archangel have become a reality. Many of the Angelic from all of the Choirs have rushed to join the ranks of the newest addition but few have been allowed and only those most loyal to Michael. The rules are strict and growing more so every day.

Only Morningstar and his rapidly expanding base of followers stand in open opposition to Michael and his heavy-handed new rules.

Rumors are whispered that The Great Architect has insisted on a Choir built to serve the mortal souls exclusively. Michael has yet to confirm this as fact; however a new city, outside the Grand Citadel, is under construction which Michael insists will be "paradise" for the mortal souls. It would not be a far reaching conclusion to draw that soon enough they will have a Choir dedicated to them as well.

In the chamber, besides Michael and Raphael are Gabriel, (of course, as he and Michael have become constant companions of late), Raquel, "Friend of God", and Chamuel, "He Who Sees God". Gabriel stands to Michael's left, while almost directly behind him a little off to his right is Raquel. Michael uses Raquel as one might a weapon. Raquel is a terror tactic of Michael's; a silent threat to bully those whom seem reticent to do as he commands. Chamuel stands before Michael, strong and filled with conviction; he is not easily cowed by the tactics Michael employs.

"You can't make the rules, Michael, then turn around and break them." Chamuel's words are the first thing to greet Raphael as he appears.

It is obvious he's arrived at a bad time but Raphael has no intention on leaving only to be forced to return later. So he hangs back, letting Chamuel have the floor and his say.

"The rules are not made by me, Chamuel, as well you know. The Great Architect dictates them, I merely relay them." Michael responds with the same old rhetoric. It is a line many of the Angelic are tired of hearing, especially when it is so apparently obvious that Michael listens more to Gabriel than he does to The Great Architect these days.

"If that were true, Michael, then the souls of the mortals would be welcome in the Citadel, not kept outside the gates like unwanted garbage." Chamuel does not mince his words, cutting straight to the point.

"Is that an accusation Chamuel?" Michael's voice falls low and threatening as he centers his energy and attention on the speaker. "I have done what has been requested of us, Chamuel. The mortals are being provided for in grand style. But as well you know many within the Choirs are not happy with them wandering our fair city. There is a balance that must be maintained. You above all in the High Council should *understand* this."

Chamuel issues a low growl of frustration. "Trying to talk sense in to you is like trying to train a rock to jump through a hoop; it's a wasted effort. Maybe when you stop being Gabriel's puppet we can speak again."

Chamuel nodded to Raquel, and, upon noticing Raphael, offered the same to him before storming out of the chambers. He did not deign to show deference or respect to either Michael or Gabriel. Michael said nothing until Chamuel had left.

"You should see to that one, Raquel. It is your job after all to ensure the Angelic do as they are told."

"No Michael. It is my job to ensure they tend to their duties. Not the duties you think to assign them but the ones they were created to do. That, Michael, is my job. Which I might add you have been making it harder and harder for me to accomplish. Eventually you will have to face the consequences of your own misbehavior."

"Another threat?" Michael glanced over his shoulder to Raquel. "Good thing you are merely the watcher of Angelic behavior and not the one who metes out the *Punishment*. Your flagging wisdom is showing I'm afraid and that could lead you down a dangerous path, Brother. Hmm, it begs to wonder if you two are fellow conspirators??"

Before Raquel could respond Raphael steps forward, clearing his voice to draw Michael's attention. "You summoned me Michael, I'm here. What is it you want?"

"Ah, Raphael, our wayward healer." As if Michael hadn't known he was there all along, "Nice of you to come by. Glad you could tear yourself away from your precious mortal realms. Too bad you won't be able to spend any more time wasted down there."

Raphael doesn't respond, rather he waits. Whatever Michael is up to Raphael isn't planning on making it easier for him.

"Have nothing to say?" Michael and Gabriel exchange glances, significant only between them, before Michael returns his attention to Raphael. "Your request to serve as an Archangel is refused. Too many of the High Council serve in other Choirs, I need the few who are still dedicated to their original duties to remain committed. You are excused so that you can get back to your Heavenly chores and no more roaming the Below, Raphael, that realm is now considered off limits to you."

Michael does not wait for a response; he turns dismissively away focusing his attentions upon Gabriel. The pair of them drift away, speaking in low whispers not intended to be overheard or accidentally caught.

Raphael looks to Raquel and another significant glance is shared but this time it is between the two of them. Raquel drops a surreptitious wink to Raphael. Raphael hides his grin by turning away and striding with purpose from the council chambers.

No one but the three of them knows of the shared alliance, but it remains steadfast even in the face of Michael and Gabriel's attempts at intimidation. The real problem is that they are suspicious that something is afoot. They may not know who's involved, but they suspect something is up.

The Three need be more cautious than ever and make sure they cover their tracks with impunity. Otherwise their plot may be uncovered too quick leaving them unprepared and at Gabriel's mercy. And everyone knows that Gabriel has no mercy.

It goes without saying that Raphael has no intention of doing what Michael has commanded of him. He has nothing to fear from Gabriel, although neither Gabriel nor Michael knows this. Michael may not have allowed Raphael the freedom to join the ranks of the Archangels, but that changes nothing. Raphael intends to go ahead with his own plans.

All the meeting had accomplished, in Raphael's opinion, was to demonstrate just how far gone Michael truly is. It isn't at all surprising that so many are flocking to Morningstar's side; Michael's lost all focus and Gabriel is the one who's in charge now. Of all the Angelic, Gabriel is the last of them that should hold such power!

Long Lankyn Progenitor of the Bloods

Morningstar Part 2

"Oh, yes, my "position of power"." Raphael's turn to sound bored and disinterested. "Do not delude yourself, Brother, I have no desire to return to the Above."

"You have outright disobeyed Michael and he's declared you 'renegade". Gabriel will be hunting you, Raphael. However," Morningstar steps closer to Raphael, his voice falling to a conspiratorial and cajoling whisper as he places a friendly hand on Raphael's shoulder, "I am willing to stand by you, aid you in returning. I will see you given back your standing, Raphael; take the price off your head so to speak."

Raphael pushes away from Morningstar, not roughly or quick in distaste, but rather extracting himself smoothly from the nearness of the other. "No. As I have said, I have no desire to return to the Above, under any circumstances."

"You are a fool, Raphael!" Morningstar snaps, losing patience and growing angry. He's used to getting his way; it is unusual for anyone to stand against his demands, especially when he's being so cordial about them. "You really don't want to make an enemy of me, Raphael. I can surpass Gabriel's cruelty if the need arises."

"Enemies" There is no need to take this to such an extreme, Morningstar. I have no intentions of standing in opposition to you or what you want." Raphael speaks as he moves further from the window, deeper in to the depths of the tower room, further away from Morningstar. "And I most certainly do not wish to hear your confession concerning flaws best kept buried.

"This is a political play for you and nothing more. You want another of the Seraph to stand on your side in the High Council. My sincere apologies, but it won't be me."

"If you aren't with me, then you are against me!" Morningstar declares as he closes the distance between them menacingly.

"Odd, that is the same exact thing Gabriel once said to me." Raphael chuckles with amusement but does not back away from the encroachment of Morningstar; rather he stands his ground firmly. "As I have said only moments before we need not take this to extremes. Perhaps a truce is in order?"

"A truce"! You won't give alliance, but you offer me a *truce*" As if you hold the same power as I! I could smite you from existence with a thought, Angel." Morningstar scoffs.

"In no way do I intend to infer that I hold more of anything than you, Brother. I merely suggest that we need not be enemies. Truthfully spoken Morningstar you have enough of them already, you don't need to add more to such an already explosive mix."

"Hm, perhaps you have a point." Morningstar's tone is contemplative much like his expression reflects. "A truce may be acceptable. I am sure since you brought this up you already have terms in mind?"

"But of course, Brother. I would not have suggested something so forward were I not already willing to make the offer." Raphael replies as he steps forward, towards Morningstar; indicating his willingness to negotiate. Dealing with the Above is just like any other game; you calculate your moves and then play them with consummate skill when the time is ripe.

"I offer to stay out of your way if you give me the same freedoms. Neither of us will meddle in the other's plans. In short, we do as we want and leave the other alone to do the same. Does that work for you, Morningstar?"

"Hm, it seems that I am somehow getting the short end in this deal, Raphael. What do I get out of it' "Staying out" of your business, eh' The way I see it, I can take you down with barely a thought. What should stop me?"

Raphael laughs softly as he steps closer to Morningstar, "Perhaps you can, then again, perhaps you can't.

"As for what you get' It's pretty straightforward Morningstar; I and mine will leave you and yours alone to do as you wish.

"Do you know what powers I possess, Brother" Have you any idea" And what if, hypothetically speaking of course, I have more than you are aware" Do you really wish to test me?" Raphael speaks sincerely and with conviction as he "allows" Morningstar to see what he's carefully kept concealed for a very long time.

This is no trick or ploy; the Three have taken astonishing measures to ensure their safety, not only from Michael and Gabriel, but from Morningstar as well. Some might say that Raphael holds the winning hand in this round of cards.

Morningstar studies Raphael closely, as if reading for the truth. A snarl twists beautiful lips as he hisses, backing away from Raphael with the suddenness of movement that the Angelic own. "You stink of the *Arcane*." but there is something in Morningstar's tone that hints at uncertainty. "What tricks have you and Raziel been up to, eh, Raphael?"

Into Exile Part 1

The scene flows with the ease of water seamlessly from Morningstar to the Council Chambers. All of the Choirs are present although Raphael did not summon them personally. In fact, he'd done little planning for this event, merely informing the High Council Members that he would speak at this moment and that his words would echo throughout the Citadel for all to hear.

Raphael intends for all of the Angelic to know his course. Michael and Gabriel will not be allowed to 'spin" Raphael's departure as they had Raziel's. Raphael would make sure that the truth is known rather than the misdirection that others may wish to paint it. In Raphael's opinion it is time that the Angelic were allowed to see the rupture that Michael, Gabriel and Morningstar have wrought amidst them; time for the veil of ignorance to be ripped away. If there were any left Above that couldn't see where this path was heading, Raphael aims to give them clear sight.

Currently, chaos holds supreme over the Angelic. The First Great War is already being waged; not outright but through guerrilla tactics. Morningstar and his followers openly disobey the myriad of strict rules that Michael has laid down, but they haven't stopped there. Pockets of violence between Morningstar's ranks and Gabriel's Legions have broken out, both Above and Below. Blood is already being spilt no matter how hard Michael tries to pretend otherwise. Michael and Gabriel have worked hard to cover such incidents up, but Raphael is about to expose all of it to everyone. No more lies, no more deceit or half-truths; it is time that the Angelic know the full reality.

Free Will: This is what Morningstar and his followers fight for, this is their mantra.

Raphael finds it hard to ignore the validity of their cause; he feels that the Angelic deserve to follow their own paths, choose how they will serve their duties. Perhaps this is the real reason why he agreed to do this" Because at the very heart of it Raphael really is on Morningstar's side, not because he fears the wrath of his fellow brethren nor is it out of some twisted sense of revenge against Michael, but because Raphael truly does believe in freedom of will.

Idealistic, this is the tag many have placed upon him. They assume Raphael weak because of his compassion and ethics; exploitable. Raphael knows otherwise, for it is these very traits that have shaped and honed him, made it possible for him to understand in ways that the others of his race aren't able. It is not their fault; they simply weren't created to perform the same *Duties* as he. However this doesn't mean that they should be abandoned to the subjection of Michael and Gabriel's service.

Everyone sees two sides but he will ensure that another choice is given them before he takes his leave.

When Below Raphael takes on a physical shell, similar in shape to the mortals but Above he assumes his true form. The Angelic are beings of energy, they are bright light and blinding to mortals, (even those who have entered Heaven still turn from the painful visages of the Angelic.) Since the introduction of mortals to Heaven many of the Angelic have adapted similar likenesses when they are around the mortals. It is a token of good will and the desire not to hurt them while communing. However here in the Council Chamber no mortal souls are allowed and only the true state of being is accepted.

The time is upon him and Raphael moves towards the center of the chamber, taking this moment to let the energies in the room wash over, wash through him. He senses Raquel and Chamuel just off to his left before him. Michael and Gabriel are standing out in front of the crowd directly centered, their whispered conversation lost in the murmurs of the Angelic but their attentions are focused intensely upon Raphael. He can feel the heat of them beating at him, as if even now they are attempting to bully him. The arrival of Raziel somewhere behind him to his right is a welcome jolt of power and he is most grateful his friend has come. Near the back of the chamber is Morningstar, a few of the High Council gather around him and the Angel of Death, Azrael, as well.

Raphael takes the floor as he begins to speak.

Into Exile Part 3

"Raphael can return as he is want. If this privilege is granted to Raziel; then so must it extend to him. You can't keep making rules you expect the rest of us to adhere to, then breaking them when the whim moves you."

"How dare you?! Neither you nor your followers adhere to the rules, Morningstar!" Michael snaps. Gabriel moves closer in towards Michael, their energies merging and mingling.

"Aw. My words have upset your pet, I see." Mocks Morningstar, his comment made to incite Gabriel rather than Michael.

"Morningstar." Gabriel warns by tone of voice alone. Taking a more casual manner he continues, "You are right, of course. Raphael has the same privileges that have been extended to Raziel. Now that is all settled we are done here."

"So you speak for Michael now?" Taunts Morningstar moving ever closer towards the floor but nevertheless remaining within the ranks.

"No, of course not?" Gabriel begins only to be interrupted by Michael.

"If I give him leave to speak for me, Morningstar, then speak for me he does."

"Yes, as long as everyone is clear, then I care not which of you speak." Morningstar retorts.

Raphael has no desire to stand here and continue to listen to this quibbling. It is little more than a power struggle brought to full light and these petty politics are no longer his concern. He retakes his pace, quickly moving from the floor without further ado.

As Raphael reaches the edge of the chamber's protective shields, preparing for his departure, a familiar voice flickers inside his thoughts.

"Asziel," Morningstar relays telepathically, "it was she who has betrayed you, Raphael."

Raphael does not return communications to Morningstar, there is no need; he has what he came for in more ways than one. In a flicker he departs the Above, hoping he will never be forced to return and yet knowing that it is inevitable.

* * * * * * * * *

This was the beginning of Raphael's new life Below. He'd abdicated his position in the High Council Above, but he hadn't abandoned his *duties*. He would continue nurturing life, to keep the energies flowing but he saw before him a greater path; a chance to mingle with the humans, to teach and enlighten them. He realized that he could no longer offer aid to his fellow Angels, and this brought him bouts of grief; heavy and dark. Yet he recognized that his choice was the only one open to him. As the tension had risen between Morningstar and Michael, Raphael's abilities had been diminished anyway; there was nothing left for him to do. He could only offer to heal those who came seeking it.

Surprisingly, after his speech to the Angelic, many came to him looking for sanctuary from the Above. Perhaps it was because of The First Great War, which broke like a tsunami over Heaven shortly after his official departure. He would always be left to question the motives of his brethren, wonder if those who had followed him into exile were truly friend or potential spy. Yet such worries were minor replaced by the excitement of what lay ahead. He saw potential in everything.

Below, the exiles begun taking on the guise of humans. They learned to slip unnoticed in to their ranks, move through their lives as if they were one of them. Many were lost to this practice for years, centuries, eons, for within the exiles there were none to stop them. Free will hadn't been an empty promise Raphael had offered; he'd meant every word. The exiles were allowed to choose their own direction without hindrance or interference from the others.

As for Raphael, he too slipped in to the guise of human and traveled the vast paradise of the Below. After a time, he even took a human woman as bride and had many children. All the while he worked to enlighten and educate the people for this fed his sense of purpose and hope; this fulfilled his *Duties*. He fought valiantly to open their eyes to the futility of violence and war but, just as with the Above, humans are instinctually driven to dominate; it is their nature. With profound sadness and sinking heart he recognized his attempts were nothing more than wasted effort.

He could count the foundation of religion and the desire to retain history as his most lasting accomplishments, but both brought bloodshed among the humans. It seemed they were driven to battle over everything. He watched in horror as the humans lost respect for their lands and grew blind to the wonders of the Mysteries misled by their own ambitions for power and control. It was then that he understood he must take action to preserve that which was most precious.

Perhaps it was the haunting memory of the Lady of the Moon" Or the sight of The Tree withering in a desert; the once great forest razed by the hand of human development to build temples to Gods and Goddesses they were slowly destroying" Whatever awakened him, awake he was.

Raphael and those most loyal began to build their own world; a world of wonder and magic. A world built to serve and protect the Mysteries of the physical. A world that they hid from the sights of the Above and the humans; allowing only a chosen few to see beyond The Veil. A world built to cherish and nurture the spirit of life.

He became known as Oberon, the King of the Fay and Raphael became a title soon forgot.

History is a fickle thing, he'd learned during his travels, easily rewritten. Once he'd fought to see it kept, thinking of the knowledge that could be gained, but now" He did not lay down words to explain their new world, he did not document who or why. Instead he let the past fall away and a new dawn rise.

Oberon was no longer the Angel Raphael; he'd been changed by his myriad of experiences. He had become something else.

* * * * * * * * *

What became of Asziel, you may wonder?

She did not follow Raphael to the Below, although she'd supposedly joined his cause so long ago. Instead she remained Above but none seemed to know much about her. No rumors reached his ears, no news of her was forthcoming and over the centuries Asziel's treachery dulled. The petty politics and maneuverings of the Above faded to a distant gray. He hadn't forgotten but he no longer cared about such matters.

The Oberon had more important issues on his mind than to contemplate ancient history best left buried.

Of course, it is when you least expect it that your past comes back to haunt.

The Fall Part 2

Heaven had changed a lot since last he had been here. Some things seemed the same, like the High Council Chamber, while others were dramatically different.

The first sight to greet him when he arrived Above was the wall.

A wall had been erected around the Grand Citadel, effectively shutting the mortal souls and any others deemed unfit out. The "paradise" Michael had built for them seemed little less than slums. No Angelic caretakers were apparent, nor was there any sign of comfort and compassion that had once been freely offered. The souls looked bewildered, confused; lost. He was not only appalled by the sight, but sickened to the very core of his being. How could the mortals be so poorly treated when all knew The Great Architect favored them above all others"

It is these images that haunt him even today; the injustice perpetrated against the mortals. He has never been given an answer as to why this had been done.

The Oberon could not access the High Council Chamber directly as he once had been able, (back in the days he'd been known as the Angel Raphael). It didn't surprise him; he'd expected Michael and Gabriel to pull such a stunt. Having Cast Down Morningstar, they held all the power now. He anticipated they'd abuse it.

Forced to request admittance at The Gate, (the only way to gain access to the Grand Citadel), he was given ample time to assess the "haven" the mortals had been "gifted". The Oberon knew that Michael made him wait on purpose. The motive was yet unclear but the message came across without confusion.

At last The Gate opened and allowed him inside. He was "escorted" to the High Council Chamber, given no free reign almost as if it had been forbidden for him to commune with any others of his race. His guards, Angels from Gabriel's Legion, left him at the entrance of the chambers without ever a word passed.

The Oberon stepped in to the chamber expecting the High Council Members to be present, only to find Michael alone.

From his conversations with his fellow conspirators he had been warned to expect the worse, however neither had painted this grim an image. Perhaps they hadn't known how bad it had gotten Above" Perhaps they hadn't wanted to be the bearers of such grave tidings" He made a mental note to ask them both later.

"Raphael, you have returned at last. I assume it is to retake your *Duties*." Michael appears distracted as if something weighs upon him, heavy and sinister. "I must say you took your sweet time. Your talents could have been of use during these dark days."

"Where is the rest of the Council, Michael?"

"Gone."

"Gone" What do you mean; Gone?"

"I mean they are gone, Raphael. Have you lost your ability to understand our language" Gone as in no longer here, need I be plainer?" Michael's voice is cold, harsh, with an edge the Oberon recognizes he too has acquired over time. "You are not the only one to abandon *Us*, Raphael."

The innocence of Angels has been shattered. The Oberon wonders if this is the true bane of the immortal; losing purity, going from optimist to pragmatist"

"Michael, I understand you plainly enough, but your words create nothing but questions. You claim they are gone, but you do not explain the why of it. I know you have cast down Morningstar; that he has been damned. I have seen the state Heaven is in. What I don't understand is how any of this came to pass" What have you done, Brother" Why has the Council vanished?"

"Hmm, why haven't you noticed it yet, eh, Raphael" Have you strayed so far from your heritage that you lost it long ago' It begs to question, Brother, why you can't sense what is *most obvious*!" Michael fairly spits the words at the Oberon; heated, angry, full of spite. "The Angelic have been forsaken, Raphael. We are being punished for Morningstar's betrayal!"

There are moments that define us; this was one of them for the Oberon. He'd never lost communion with The Great Architect, he'd never once abandoned his true *Duties*. It came as a surprise that here, where he should feel closest to his Creator, there was an eerie absence of His Presence.

He doesn't understand how such a thing could happen, he isn't sure he knows how to repair it. The stark truth is this is out of his depths and the Oberon does not like being in such a position. He scowls at Michael pondering what to say next but Michael beats him to the punch.

"You act all high and mighty, you claim what you've done is just and yet you have been in the *dark* far longer than we, isn't that right, Raphael" Tell me, does it get easier as time passes?"

"Easier" I would not know, Michael. Our Creator has not abandoned me." He doesn't monitor his tone; he allows the scorn he feels to taint it. "What have you done to deserve this" Why has this happened, Michael?"

"Why"! I've told you *why*! Morningstar turned against The Great Architect, he betrayed us all and so must we suffer! We did as He bade; we cast Morningstar out of Heaven, but it was not enough for He is no longer among us! There have to be others: we must hunt them down to finish this!"

"Michael you sound paranoid and dramatic. Calm yourself, Brother." The Oberon speaks in a cajoling tone, hoping to soothe Michael towards greater wisdom. "Perhaps together we can work this out?"

"The same old Raphael, trying to manipulate like always; don't you ever grow bored of it' These games you try and play' Don't think I don't know how you came to be here. You can tell that bitch that she's banished. She ran away rather than come to her appointment, so we judged her accordingly."

"*We*, Michael" I see only You."

Sid Part 1

The prison is ready. It is time to summon the criminal. The three Seraph join, lighting the beacon they know she won't, can't refuse. It has taken many months to reach this point and soon the fruits of their labor will see accomplishment.

Even as the Three merge, Corwyn's memories flow unheeded. Like the tide, at last, pulling away from the shore, there is one moment yet to be relived. Perhaps the most telling of them all and it refuses to remain locked away. Rather it collides into them even as the spell of summoning commences.

The day Manon was "born".

Corwyn remembers the details with a clarity few other experiences hold, for on that day he saw his destiny shining and clear in the eyes of the youth. He had all that he believed confirmed. Yet only the Three now One were aware of it, for he had kept his secrets close and safe.

That morning he had been arguing with Mab, the title Asziel had taken when she'd joined the Exiles. Their argument was an old one, a tired one, a point he felt he'd made more than plain.

"Oberon, you are a fool to think that the rest of us should follow you like some kind of leader. You are just like us, no better, nor worse. Why do you persist in pushing this issue when you above all others should recognize its dead?"

"Mab, we are not Gods, no matter what you perceive and I will continue to refuse such ignoble title. It is merely a mortal perception, one that taints the true glory of our race. Laying claim to such powers which are not ours is arrogant and egotistical. It is true we have created many species to walk this wondrous world, but we did not create the world. We are the caretakers; we have procreated not created our unique offspring's. We can not lay claim to being greater than we are for it goes against the teachings of our race. All Exiles know from whence we've come, there should be no reason for me to reiterate this now or ever again!"

"You delude yourself that the rest of us care about our origins, Oberon. We have been abandoned by the Above, none save you see reason to continue in such service!"

"Blasphemy that is what you speak, Mab. You had best watch yourself?"

"Or what? You'll *punish* me"!" She interrupts before he can finish his sentence, her tone scornful. She turns away from him in disgust, her anger based on far more than this argument. "You have given me nothing, Oberon! You take liaison with the lowest of us but you refuse me the attentions I crave. Instead"! You give "wife" to H'll"n"!"

"You overlook the obvious, Mab." He smirks as he reclines upon the plush pillows of his private quarters. "My feelings for the lady are what granted her such privilege."

"Oh, yes, *love*." Mab's laughter is cutting and cruel. "Obviously the Seraph were gifted the right to have emotion. Do you think it returned" I have news for you Oberon; she could give a rat's ass about you; it's the power she craves!"

"Some would say the same about you, Mab."

"Taunt me all you will, but you will rue the day you chose her over me!"

"Will I" Will I really?"

"Milord, Milady' There has been a disturbance in the Great Forest, near the Tree I was sent to tell you." The Elven servant would rather have been any where else than there, but duty called. He'd overheard a part of their exchange and although he may not comprehend the depths of it, he understands that Mab is upset. An upset Mab is nothing to be messed with.

"Out you sniveling little weasel, can't you see we are busy"!" Mab snaps at the servant before the Oberon has time to make comment.

"Mab, that's enough! You will not speak to *mine* like that. They have orders to inform me of such situations and you have been given no leave to treat them as you will."

"How terrible of me to assume that my time with you is to be respected!"

He would like to tell her to shut up and get lost but there is no diplomacy in such behavior. Besides, Mab has been building an army to rival Gabriel's Legion. She claims it is to protect the Lands and races they have nurtured to life. But the Oberon suspects it's her lust for power that drives her, not protection. In this, his wisdom has flagged, for he has not countered her army with one of his own, an oversight he plans on remedying.

"We will speak on these matters later, if you insist, however my attention is needed elsewhere." He speaks as he rises, moving towards the doorway and freedom from her nagging.

"This is far from over, Oberon. I won't give up until I have everything I want.?

He takes it as the threat he knows it to be. He has no intentions of giving in to her demands, but he recognizes that this won't stop her. She will do whatever needs doing to get what she thinks she wants. In this he has no illusions. What the Oberon fails to realize is the depths to which she will sink; the morals and ethics agreed upon by the Exiles do not hold any power over Mab because no one had ever thought to ask for her accord. She has no scruples and this is something she has carefully kept hidden from him, from them all.

Sid Part 3

The moment he laid eyes on the youngling, he knew. In an intuitive flash he saw the threads of energy that glittered as bright as summer stars within; this being was no mere Angel but a hybrid. The essence of the Angelic entwined with those of the Mysteries. How such a thing had come to happen, he had no answer but happen it had.

He also knew without understanding that they were not the first to greet the newest arrival; the Mysteries had already paid homage.

He does not recall how he came to stand before the youth, he simply found himself there, his hand already reaching to caress the being's cheek with the back of spidery thin fingers.

"You're safe now." The words are whispered, gentle and soothing, in the language of Angels, as he gazes into eyes filled with such horrors. The youth has no reluctance; allowing him to 'see" the existence that Fate had meted out.

Brethren against Brethren, dealers of death, the blood of Angels flowing like a raging river Above. A battlefield unlike any ever witnessed In-Between. Bodies of Angels strewn like so much wood tossed about like a hurricane to litter the landscape; the only land this soul has ever known.

Gabriel's Legion has been trained to fight and die over and over again, in order to build the perfect army. Sickening images fill the Oberon but he does not turn away. Rather he welcomes them, taking them in to himself to free the torment of the soul ensnared by those experiences.

"You are safe." He repeats low and tender, again in the only language the being may know, his hand cupping the youth's face, keeping that gaze locked with his.

"It's one of Gabriel's Legion!" Mab's voice declares from somewhere behind him. She speaks in the tongue of the Elves. "It's a spy, we should kill it. Kill it NOW!"

A murmur rises among the welcoming party, low at first but building as they commence to argue. The odd way the Oberon is reacting does not bring the others comfort, but rather inspires greater fear.

Has he been bewitched" They begin to speculate.

The Angelic are not limited by distance or space like other races; they have the innate ability to commune telepathically with each other using little more than thought. As beings of energy they can travel where they want in a blink of a mortal's eye. As the scene unfolds, many confer with those they have befriended and all too soon, other Exiles begin arriving; the Oberon's "wife", H'll"n", among them.

Although he senses the new arrivals and the growing fear of the Exiles, his thoughts are centered on the being before him.

He knows this being is no spy.

It is true that none of Gabriel's Legion had ever come seeking sanctuary, nor had any of them been cast down to serve Below. There are many theories as to the why of it, but few facts to back them up. Some conjecture that Gabriel has created them soulless, empty vessels, with no ambition or drive, built to serve Gabriel's will alone. Gabriel, like many of the other Seraph, has the ability to create lesser Angels, but all save Michael, Raziel or Raphael, have been limited in their creations. It is possible that Gabriel did not actually create this Angel.

In fact, this being should not exist, yet obviously it does. The Oberon may not have the answers as to how this has happened, but he believes he knows the why.

This is his destiny.

Sid Part 5

If he could have killed Mab at that moment, he would have but he sensed that there were others in the crowd that thought along similar lines; too many others to justify such an action. To move against Mab so openly would create a rift too wide to bridge; all that he has worked to build would be gone in a mortal heartbeat. He must bide his time and in the meantime, regain the control she's trying to wrench from him and steal for herself.

"I know many of you feel that this is some ruse, a trick being perpetrated upon us by Gabriel, and that we should kill this being to save ourselves. But I ask you, save ourselves from what?" He steps away from Mab, careful to keep the disgust he feels for her from his expression or his tone of voice. This isn't about her right now; it's about keeping what he's created safe.

"Gabriel can't touch us; there is no reason for him to send a spy among us. Killing this Angel will prove only our fear of him." He realizes even as he speaks what he's saying doesn't hold the power he needs for it to take root in the fearful minds of the others. Yet even as he struggles to find the right thing to say H'll"n" interrupts.

"She is no spy." Softly spoken yet firm with fact, her words easily travel over the agitated crowd for all to hear. Unlike Mab who practically yells, H'll"n"'s dulcet and tender tones touch their minds oddly able to comfort their uncertainties.

"And pray tell how *you* would know that?" Mab demands with the lifting of an imperial brow, her tone suggesting that she doesn't believe H'll"n" in the least.

The Oberon turns to stare at H'll"n" in surprise, wondering how she knew the Angel is a 'she"; he had yet to discern that for himself.

"I asked her." H'll"n" replies with a calm, cool voice. Turning to the new arrival she opens her arms beckoning the youth to her side and then, speaking in the tongue of Angels, asks "Come over to me child, it is time you told your story to the others."

The youngling moves from her stance near the Great Tree to H'll"n"'s side, allowing the elder to place a protective arm about her shoulders. The youth is far taller than H'll"n", built like a soldier, but that doesn't seem to affect the elder; H'll"n" enjoys being motherly. H'll"n" looks squarely at Mab. "While you chose to bicker with the Oberon, I choose to speak to the child. You can continue your play for power, Mab, but not right now, and certainly not while wasting my time. Nor will I allow you to involve this innocent being."

A chastisement mixed with a brutally public accusation. H'll"n" is no fool, although Mab is quick to paint her as such. H'll"n" is as tired of Mab's plots and ploys as is her husband and will do what she can to see them come to an end. H'll"n" turns her attentions to the youth, whispering quietly before turning to eye the crowd. A hush falls over those gathered as their Mother figurehead grants them her direct attentions.

"If you question me or the Oberon, then ask her yourselves! She may not speak in the tongue of the Exiles, but all of us here will understand what she has to say." A tender pat granted to the child, a prodding for her to speak and speak she does.

"I am tired of the killing." Simple words, not expected from a soldier, spoken quietly but truth rings clear in her words. "I would rather cease to exist than continue to serve such *Duties*."

"Lies! He's given them the talent to lie." Mab accuses as she jabs a finger towards H'll"n" and the youth while addressing the others. Yet Mab's words ring weak and empty, too many know that Gabriel has no such talent.

"You wish, Mab." H'll"n" snaps in response. "Please cease with your incessant ambition for control, many of us are well and truly sick of it."

The restless stirring of the crowd begins to abate as reason returns; the mob mentality ebbing away. The reassurance granted by their Mother H'll"n" relieves many of their impulsive fears. Too many are aware of Mab's driving ambitions, and in this H'll"n" is correct; most are tired of her constant manipulations. They would rather follow H'll"n" than be subjected to Mab.

Yet not all of them believe the soothing words of H'll"n", a few still perceive the new arrival as a potential threat, all of them supporters of Mab. Yet none of them dare speak out for they know this will not win them favor in their Mistress's eyes; she wishes to keep their increasing numbers quietly to herself.

It appears as if H'll"n" and the Oberon have won this round.

But Mab's anger swells ever more heated; she hates to lose, even a small battle such as this and there is something about this new arrival that bodes badly within. A warning bell is tolling, loud and shrill; the Oberon's reaction to the Angel is what feeds this response. Mentally she vows to see this Angel destroyed if it is the last thing she ever does; too bad she hadn't thought to shield her thoughts tight enough to keep the Oberon from "overhearing" them.

"You will regret taking this one into your fold!" Mab sneers at no one in particular as she turns away, her disgust evident in her tone and the lines of her body. "She will be the downfall of us all!" a threat, a warning; perhaps both' And before any can naysay her, or the Oberon confront her for her wicked thoughts, she's gone.

H'll"n" smiles to the new arrival, happy to ignore Mab and her drama, as she smoothes a hand over the youth's arm soothingly. "Everything will be alright now; you are safe as the Oberon has promised."

Watching H'll"n" with the youngling, the Oberon smiles, pleased; this is the reason why he chose her over Mab. H'll"n" is a lot like him; a nurturer, someone who wants and believes in all that is good and kind. Even in Mab's most sincere moments she can't come close to understanding such instincts.

Yet H'll"n" does not strike the same cords inside him that the new arrival does" and this could bring discord if he is not very, very careful. But that, dear readers, is a story for another time.

* * * * * * * *

The youth took the name of Manon, and eventually became the Maiden. The Oberon and she spent many blissful years together until the machinations of Mab reached out and destroyed them.

It was not only Mab's jealousy that drove her but her overwhelming desire to hold power over all in the Lands. To this end, she went to great lengths, betraying all that was precious. She committed many crimes to acquire her power but the one that stung the deepest and lingers even to this day was the destruction she wrought upon the species of the Lands; stealing away the goodness and innocence only to replace them with lust, greed and an insatiable appetite for power.

At last the time has come for Mab to face the consequences of her actions and the Oberon is pleased he will be there to witness it.

Mab's Betrayals Part 2

Mab's fury can be heard even through the thick crystal walls of her cage, screaming at the injustice of her situation, cursing and threatening them, yet all three ignore her for the moment. Just as Mab had done so long ago to Corwyn, they too have done to her; her powers have been limited. She cannot teleport away nor can she contact any with her mind. Mab's own trap has truly been turned against her.

"We have to work fast." Raziel comments turning to the other two. "Belial's situation is precarious at best; he will know she's been drained."

"I have that covered, Brother." Raquel responds with his serene smile intact before shifting his attention from Raziel to Corwyn. "You are now charged to do your Duty, Raphael or I shall be forced to do mine. You have made them into the powers they are, they are yours to Heal. Do your Duty or face my Judgment."

"I understand, Raquel, but know this: What has been done was agreed upon by the three of us. They are Seraph now, and it is up to all of us to see them educated."

"There is little time, Brothers." Raziel reminds gently but urgently. "Even now he is making his move."

"Belial is safe, Raziel." Corwyn replies with a knowing smile, "She's with me and not abandoned Above."

"I still sense her there, Raphael." Raziel insists with a frown. "You know what may happen if even one of you is destroyed; the other two will be greatly weakened. It is the reason why we three did not attempt such a joining."

Raquel nods contemplatively. "We could not take such a risk as we are the only Seraph left that have remained loyal to our creation. However times have changed thanks to Raphael's shrewd maneuverings. Heaven has been restored and the Great Architect returned. Michael's madness has been healed and Gabriel's powerbase weakened."

"Worry not, Raziel. I would not allow any harm to befall the two under my care nor would I jeopardize any of us." Corwyn reassures.

"At last the time has come. He will know soon enough the trick that has been played on him. I must ascend and strike now before he grows wise to our plot." Raquel comments quietly yet there is about the Seraph an air of satisfaction as if he is pleased and excited by what lay ahead. "God's speed to you both."

In a flicker of brilliant white light Raquel vanishes, leaving the other two to face the ever increasing wrath of Mab alone. Raziel turns his head towards the imprisoned one, shaking his head slowly.

"I feel left out of some loop, Raphael. There are things you and Raquel have kept from me, I fear."

"No, Brother. Not kept from you with intention. Each of us has our Duties to perform, and each of us have done what we thought best to see them done. I do not know what Raquel is up to, he's not shared his thoughts or plans with me. I, on the other hand, am driven to ensure the safety of my own. I will allow none under my care to be sacrificed. They have placed their trust in me and I shall do all in my power to prove their faith worthy."

"Yes, I understand." Raziel replies contemplatively. "However know this: All too soon those we've protected will no longer be safe. It was I who imbued them with our power to hide it from Asziel. I who have watched over and protected those touched by any of our essence, but my abilities extend only so far, Raphael. You must know that neither Michael, Morningstar nor Gabriel will take what we've done lightly. And soon, very soon, they will see beyond my skills to what we've hidden. It is inevitable."

"I know, Raziel. I know. And yes; soon we'll be facing a new war. Many will say what I have done is blasphemous; they will be seeking my head. And they will know you aided me. Yet?" Corwyn pauses taking in a deep breath, silver gaze resting on the Angel trapped in the crystal cage, "what we've done we did out of Duty. We had no choice."

"We had many choices, Brother. Do not delude yourself otherwise." Raziel's tone is soft, yet firm. "But I, like you, know that none of them would have been as successful. We needed the strength of the Triumvirate to stop the End of Days; it was the only way to garner the power needed to bring down Michael's ill begotten wall. We could not risk ourselves, for there were no others to take up our cause should we have failed and we would not have been able to keep it concealed. All of this I understand but what we've done" Should we not be facing Judgment" We've put innocents in danger, Raphael. Perhaps, in the long run, it would have been better to have sacrificed ourselves rather than involve others who may not be able to stand up to what may come?"

"We would have failed, Raziel; you know this. They would have destroyed us and the End of Days would have eradicated the mortal planes. Yes, we had other choices, but none that would have given us the ability to accomplish what we have."

"So it was you, Oberon who stopped the End of Days!" Mab interrupts accusingly, her voice rising over and above the other two with an intensity born out of hatred and anger. "I should have known it was you all along! And creating a Triumvirate! I suspected that was what you were up to, going to that place of power, speaking the ancient words! Yet you are Seraph, I did not think you'd stoop to such devious devices! You three dare imprison me"! You have done far worse deeds than I; broken rules that I would never dared dream to!"

"Mab, what we have done was to regain the glory of Heaven. What we have done we did to serve our Duties. What you have done was to garner power for yourself. You may shout your accusations but they are weakened by your ambitions. You can lay no noble claim to your behavior. What you did was not out of Duty or the desire to protect our race and the souls entrusted to us. What you did was motivated by your own selfish goals." Corwyn is done with her, he turns his back on the one caged, giving his brother a nodding smile. "It is time for me to get to work, Raziel. Belial grows restless and confused and Manon' She too will be weakened beyond what she should be. I sense an alien energy attempting to overwhelm her."

"Don't you dare turn your back on me Oberon! You should be in here right alongside me!"

"God's speed to you Raphael, tell them to come to me when they are ready." Raziel grants his brother a radiant smile. "They have much to learn."

"You won't be able to stay away Oberon, you won't be able to resist the temptation to torment me as I did you! It is in your nature now! You've been as corrupted by the physical as I!" Mab screams with mounting desperation.

Corwyn turns his head glancing one last time at the prisoner allowing his smile to widen with amusement. "I'll leave that to Raquel, Mab. He can visit you during this time of imprisonment; recite to you your crimes. As for me: I feel nothing but satisfaction knowing you can no longer work your evil against any of us. You can rot here for all eternity for all I care. This is the last you will see of me until Raquel sees fit to release you. And know this, Mab, should he ask me when I feel such a time is ripe, I will tell him in truth: Never.?

Without another word Corwyn departs, knowing he means what he's said; he will never willingly return this place. He is well and truly finished with the likes of Mab.

Beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror which we are barely able to endure and are awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us. Each single angel is terrifying. RAINER MARIA RILKE, Duino Elegies

In the deepest recesses of the earth's bowels lies a cave undiscovered by mortal-kind and at its heart, trapped frozen in darkness, sheathed by ice and glass, she waits. Silence is her only companion as time marches forever on leaving her unmercifully behind. There is no wisdom in its passage, no comfort in its stoic, everlasting embrace. Here in this cavernous depth it is only marked by the faintest ticking of her cold, cold ancient heart' and her thoughts? her rage-filled, unstoppable thoughts.

Mab is alone, unable to move, unable to speak. Her ears hear the echoes of ages past as no sounds resonate outside of her or her prison. In this lonely grave-like cell she does not rot or decay for such would be a blessing, a promise of release to come. Without relief she's haunted by hopelessness and the ever-present realization that none are coming.

There will be no rescue of the Mother Sun. She will remain trapped and all too soon forgotten. Becoming little more than a legend, a myth to be passed to her children's children but never recalled with the glory that IS.

Alas, History is an unkind creature, controlled by the hands of the winners, it lacks compassion, truth or sympathy. If *He* has his way, even the memory of her will be erased, no myth, no legend. Nothing save a gaping, open wound where once her story lay.

Mab has been betrayed and it is the only heat left to her.

"I dreamt of dancing" the hall was alight with hundreds of candles; the soft glow showered the dancers with warmth. The myriad of colors! Whirling and swirling as pairs came together than flowed apart. The grace of synchronized movement as lavishly dressed couples mingled and merged. The music lilting and full, it shaped each dancer's soul, tugging at heartstrings; whispering sweet nothings of love. The rich tantalizing smell of pheromones" heavy, pervasive on the nights still air. The knowing that soon lust-filled pleasures would erupt as the night passed into early, early morn.

So many balls have I been to' so many dancers have I wooed. So many nights spent entwined in the arms of new love" But none of that came close to the swelling of a newly dawning truth:

I dreamt"

I dreamt and it is something I've never done before! And there on the Dreamscape I felt it, a power so intense I could not turn away from its beckoning call. It surged through the ethereal lands; it crooked its diaphanous finger for me to follow and hence I did not deny. Follow I did"

I saw the Tree of Life, blooming and vibrant. It looked oddly twisted, not quite natural. It had to be a shadow of what is, what was, but here it felt corrupted and yet so incredibly complete. I recalled in vivid detail the first time I laid eyes upon it, in the company of Raphael. It had held nothing for me then, not even a wisp of familiar energy. Yet here, in this place....It was shockingly, amazingly alive!

Buried at the heart of it was that power, that awe-inspiring throb that feeds the dreams to life. That feeds me! I drank deep of that power until I grew drunk and dizzy!

As I tumbled towards the soft grass, overwhelmed and aching from it, I heard the whispers" low murmurs of voices, some soft, some harsh, some pain-filled, some tender with sheer joy. They spoke of things lost and found. They spoke of secrets and all that is most precious.

And there on the winds of someone's imagination I found *her* scent.

It was strong, it was vivid; it was electric. Here in this wonderland reserved for sleeping mortal wanderings, I may have found the key to my prison.

A way out perhaps"

I skipped through scenes some twisted and perverse, some shallow and empty, some so rich and lively they tried to steal away my breath, until at last I spied it; the slumbering beast. It was a white dragon of majestic and royal design, a magnificent creature if ever there was one, and it reeked of Manon.

I had found my nemesis and in such an unexpected place" a place where my race was never supposed to go. Odd how the Fates weave our strands" so close together, so tightly knit.

It was then I began plotting" Plotting my escape....Plotting my revenge!"

"I have gotten in close now, the White Dragon listens and has learned to yearn for my touch, ache for my company. At last it has given dominance over to the one most deserving: Me.

It, the addled creature, is a gateway, you see, a gateway to the offspring's of Manon and the traitorous Crow. I can stroke them, the children, through the White Dragon, whispering and tempting, teasing them to use their powers so that I might understand their limitations. They are strong, these two, a mingling of my creation with that of the Maiden of Malice and Mishap. They have no illusions to shatter, such young tasty morsels. They know of me not! And fear has not been tasted. Nor have the imbeciles" they call parents yet granted them names. How foolish the Crow and the Maiden"! To leave them to my naming! Yet they quicken towards their sixth years.

Hmph, Stupid Crow, Foolish Maiden! If you do not name them' then name them I will!!!! And then I will own them as I once did their Father, the Crow.

And the pair of them; the Crow ever preening and the Maiden ever whining, they remain, as to be expected, unaware. So blind, so foolish, so unprotected; I confess I prefer them this way. It is easy to walk right into the children's dreams, so easy to murmur words of inducement. Yes, the time is approaching and the children will be my vessels. They will bend to my will; serve me and only me! They will be my weapons and I will wield them against those whom I despise; against those who created them!

To think I have taken that which is most precious from those most hated!

I would sing in bliss were there any voice allowed me. I would dance with the joy of my conquest would but my feet move. Yet all such pleasure has been denied me! I linger in my cold, cold prison, unable to do naught but wander the Dreaming and corrupt those tasty morsels of youth.

Even now I hear them' away in the Lands, my Lands! How dare they lay claim to shadows and magic when I am so unjustly imprisoned!

Once I have gained my freedom, I shall make them beg me, kneel to me; crawl as they plead for the lives of their children. And in the end, I shall make the Crow and Maiden watch as I slaughter their children like sheep, make them watch as that bitch Manon never did as I slaughtered those she'd birthed, those races she'd breathed to life but soon forgot and never nurtured.

Yes, it was I, you see, who destroyed everything she created once she'd betrayed all and departed our Lands for the amoral and forsaken soil of the World. Polluted as it was by the hands of pesky mortals and cold, hard steel, a foul place indeed! Not for our ilk, not for Gods like me!

It is perfect for the drug-addled imbecile that ran screaming away because her lover had been ripped from her arms. My Lover! He was mine and he shall be again. For I am the Mother and He is my King, my right! She stole him away, right out from under my nose with her wicked wiles and pretentious innocence!

I would laugh to the very core of Heaven had I but the voice!

But for now I shall comfort myself with thoughts of my retribution. For soon enough the call of the White Dragon combined with the corruption of her last and only offspring will shove the bitch over the edge! Right back into the abyss where the feral snakes" intent on devouring her rotten soul will swallow her whole! And once again she will fall into the embrace of the pecca. She will lose all she has come to cherish to the nothing she has always been.?

The silver acorn started to spin lightly upon the palm of her uplifted hand. Silver eyes focused in concentration, the acorn began to spin faster and faster.A veil of lashes fell as the acorn began to unravel into a ribbon of silver. Stretching away from The DreamWitch the ribbon of dream swam through the air. Her eyes opened to watch the dream take flight. The ribbon turned and twisted, a spiral formed. "Both" the word almost a whisper. The spiral of ribbon turned thrice more before it split down it's length into two exact pieces. A smile claimed the TrueBloods lips as the daydream ribbons slid with ease into the flow of dreams in search of their destinations.

That completed, the DreamWitch turned her thoughts to the problem at hand. Time for action. She downed the remainder of her drink as she stood. A brief glance around the near empty inn before she lifted her hand again. This time instead of an acorn her fingertips caught a hold of the invisible. A passing ribbon of another dream taken hold of, she disappeared as she let it drag her into the dreamscapes.

The daydreams would find their quarry soon enough.A moments lapse in concentration would find Lankyn and Belial....

Lankyn and Belial were sitting facing each other in a pair of leather wingback chairs that sat before the great hearth in the sitting room of the Bloods house in Rhydin. Though the fire in the hearth was unlit, there was more than enough light streaming in through the french doors to light the room. A moments time would bring them understanding that this was no usual passing daydream. Before either could voice a question a shadow fell across the room. The french doors opened to reveal the reason for the shadow. The head of a dragon in the doorway. The dragon's scales gleamed even in the shaded light.A familiar gleam to both, no doubt, it reminded of mithril steel. Blood red eyes fixed a draconic stare at both of them,it almost seemed as an eye ridge lifted like a brow. A glint of light then in blood red eyes, a line of silver that would be reptilian pupil flared with light to blind the pair for an instant. In the dying light there stood a familiar figure where the head of the dragon once was. Melantha stepped forward into the room.

The DreamWitch moved towards the pair, a bow of her head to both in turn as she stopped. Melantha's gaze caught the twitch of brows and lips of Belial and she knew the question she wanted to ask. But that was not the reason for this dream. Her gaze caught Belial's and then turned to find Lankyn's as well.

" No, I don't know how or why, but that is for another time."

Lankyn,of course, showed no expression. Bel managed to bite back any questions. They both continued to watch the DreamWitch as obviously this was just her way of sending them a message.Melantha took a slow breath before she began.

" Someone has invaded my domain. I don't know who yet or how,but they have been able to create something there as well. Thus far they have eluded me. I have only been able to capture a small fragment of one of his or hers dreams. Needless to say I have a plan for that thread."

Those last words spoken with controlled anger. Her attention fixed upon Bel now.

" Warn the Bloods, I fear their dreams might twist even more than they have of late.I don't care that they will blame me, but a warning from me might be thought to just be a ruse or something."

Her gaze shifted between the pair again. A cheshire grin now upon the DreamWitch's lips.

"For now, I'm off to dream up a little night terror to send the intruder"

That said, the DreamWitch simply faded from view. The room around the pair began to spin and dissolve until...

Both blinked themselves out of the daydream and back to what they were doing before the daydream had struck.

The ocean of tall grass rippled at the touch of a slow moving breeze. Upon a slight rise stood a lone tree. Some that saw it might be reminded of drawings they had seen of the so called Tree of Life. In truth it was a reflection of that fabled tree but this one was not set in the physical world. This tree was in the Dreamscape. It was the anchor of the one they called The DreamWitch.

She sat in a crook of limbs high in the tree. Mercurial gaze fixed upon the sea of green grass. She was not lost in thought, she was gathering her strength. The slow breeze started to pick up. Within a matter of a few breaths, the wind was lashing violently at the grass in it's path as it headed for the tree. Zephyr winds raced as the DreamWitch opened her eyes and took a slow deep breath. The wind was power and each rise and fall of her chest captured more and more. Her breaths stopped and suddenly all was still and silent. She was ready to begin.

Her head lifted, gaze searching among the branches above her head till she spotted what was needed. A new silver acorn. The tree was laden with the things but this one was still forming. Pale hand lifted, palm up. The acorn fell, released by the tree, to rest upon upturned palm.Her free hand delved into a pocket to pull out a dark thread. This was all she had been able to capture of a dream The Intruder had had. But it would be enough.

Delicate fingers worked with slow care. The thread wound tightly around the small acorn till it was fastened tightly. Eyes narrowed upon the little acorn as it was once again laid in her palm. Lifted up, lips parted to expel the held breath upon the wrapped acorn. It began to simmer and shift, silver mixing with the dark thread. Intertwining until the silver darkened to gunmetal gray.

The dream being spun would sink down deep into the subconsious mind of The Intruder. Feeding on the fears buried there and festering till it bloomed into a nightmare.Trapped with their fears within the dream there would be laughter. Ringing loud in The Intruder's mind, echoing on and on would be The DreamWitch's laugh. She would appear before them. Cheshire grin touching her lips and mirth in the sparkle of those silver eyes. A flick of her wrist would extend the dueling rapier to it's full length from her hand. The resounding laughter would serve as music for this macabre dance. A pivot on her hell, the rapier dragging an acid bite over The Intruders cheek. Spin and step, on and on the rapier would sting again and again till The Intruder fell upon their knees. Delicate pale fingers would take hold of a fistful of hair, the head drawn back. Silver eyes would find the others for a heartbeat before the rapiers edge was slid across The Intruders throat. An explosion of light then before all that was left was darkness.

Such a dream as this would be the end to most. Their body would be found in their beds in the morning. The wounds given in the dream having crossed into the waking leaving their flesh cut to ribbons. Though The DreamWitch knew that The Intruder was more than a mortal, their true nature was yet unknown. She couldn't be sure it was enough to kill The Intruder.

The DreamWitch curled her fingers around the acorn in a tight fist. Leaned back upon the trunk of the tree she opened the channel. Just a hint of the power of the thing secreted deep within the tree. Placed there for safe keeping so another could not acquire the relic. She had been keeping it's influence from leaking into the dreamscape as much as she could. Now she let it flow. Through her the darkness seeped into the acorn held so tight. Just enough of the power to heighten the effects of the dream. Fingers uncurled. The acorn upon her palm had turned to obsidian. It did not glint in the sunlight as she held it up for study, it seemed to drink in the rays of light. The channeling of such power would exact a price upon the DreamWitch for a time. Obsidian now gazed at the acorn as it began to spin upon her hand. The spinning quickened, the acorn unravelling into a ribbon flying away from her hand. The dark ribbon of dream sent on it's way to find it's target, The Intruder.

It was done.