Work Text:
==========================
Clouds, part 1
byme
Summary: The adventures of a very small and enthusiastic cherub.
***
"Where is he?" Nebuchadnezzar demanded, slamming his fist on Uriel's desk, making the ink pots jump and quills clatter against each other.
Uriel did not even glance up from the heavy vellum on which he was writing. He merely held one hand up, stopping Nebuchadnezzar in his tracks. Each letter had to be entered with the utmost care, smudges and misspelled words were simply not allowed. He outlined the capital letter precisely, filling it in with sure strokes of his brush before sitting back with a sigh.
"All right," he said as he gazed at his visitor. "Where is whom?"
"That rotten runt of an earthbound cherub!"
"Oh." Uriel chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "Lose him again, did you?"
"Lose him? Lose him!" Nebuchadnezzar shook his fist. "I'd like to drop kick him all the way to Andromeda Galaxy!"
"What has he done this time?" Uriel asked, looking at his friend indulgently.
"He missed formation flying practice for the third time this week! He'll never graduate. I'll have him on my hands forever!" Tugging at his hair, Nebuchadnezzar started pacing back and forth.
"Perhaps he simply does not enjoy flying." Uriel said placatingly. "He wouldn't be the first."
"Well, he may not like it, but he'll not get anywhere if he cannot fly correctly. Flying is mandatory.
"I don't hear you complaining about him," Nebuchadnezzar continued with a sneering glance.
"Well," Uriel chuckled, "he does seem to like books." He clasped his hands. "I could speak to him, if you like, discover his problem."
"Hmph. I have spoken to him." Nebuchadnezzar poked a finger into his own chest. "I talked to him until I was blue in the face." He shook his head. "It won't do any good, but you can try." With that, he stomped away.
Uriel watched him until he was lost in the misty clouds that surrounded the workshop.
"Well, he really is upset."
"I'm sorry." A small cherub slipped from behind a bookcase to stand by Uriel's large desk.
"You always are," he said, shaking his head. "Discretion, as I keep telling you, is the answer."
"Yes, Teacher," he mumbled, twisting grubby fingers into the feathers of one wing.
"You're no more 'sorry' than a bird in flight," he opined.
The little cherub solemnly glanced up at him through his dark curls, mischief glinting in his blue eyes.
"Hmph." Uriel lifted a thick folder from his inbox. "I've had several letters about you."
"Letters?" The earthbound cherub put his small hands on the edge of the desk to stretch up and peer over the edge.
"Letters." Uriel confirmed. "It seems you've been wandering out of your designated realm. -- Again." He glanced down at an unabashed face and sighed as he opened the folder and picked up the first letter, "Master Lokavidu tells me that he has started teaching you philosophy."
"I like him," the cherub grinned. "He's very jolly and kind."
Uriel lifted an eyebrow. "-- As a defense against your constant questions."
The cherub had the grace to blush.
He cocked a baleful eye at his student as he held the next letter. "You have been frequently seen companioning Coyote and Loki."
"Well, they're both lots of fun. They know the best jokes, too." He looked up earnestly.
"And the best pranks, no doubt." He turned to the next letter. "It seems you three have been observed disrupting the Jukurrpa."
"Uh. Well...."
"Those two will be dealt with by their own masters." He frowned. "As for you. -- Do not go to the southern continent again. Your pranks have seriously upset the balance of the time-before-time." He looked sternly at his charge until the cherub nodded in abashment.
He picked up another letter. "You have also been to Valhalla and interrupted the Thing. The Alföðr is most upset because of your interference and has threatened you with a flight of Valkyrie as punishment if you do it again."
The little cherub gulped and trembled, hanging his head in misery.
Paper rustled again. "Master Gandhi informs me that you are coming on well in your studies of meditation."
The cherub nodded eagerly. "I can do almost a half hour now."
Uriel sat back in his chair. "I may accompany you, if only to observe your stillness," he said severely as paper rustled again and he studied the next letter.
"Master Sun Wu writes that you are the brightest student he has in his strategy classes."
The cherub nodded vigorously. "He's teaching us that even submission is a valuable weapon," he said happily.
"Mm." Uriel rubbed his chin, hiding the twitching of his lips. "Still, none of these are in your assigned realm."
"But, but, if I only stay in one place, how will I learn anything?" His hands flew in quick, random gestures as he fought to express himself. "There's so much to know. The holy men in the south have one way and those in the north another. Everywhere -- it's all different. I want to know it all!" he finally cried, windmilling his arms wildly and knocking the folder off the desk in his unfettered enthusiasm. Mouth dropping open in horror, he quickly scrambled to pick up the scattered letters.
"That is what living is for, little one." Uriel accepted the folder back, placing it on the far side of his desk. "You know you cannot carry all this knowledge into the birthed world. You must stay within your assigned realm and learn as much about it as possible. You may be assigned to a different realm in the next life."
"I.... Well...." He wrinkled his brow, his eyes bright with tears. "But-but I'll carry the essence with me, the need to know will be there, and I'll learn it all over again." He looked uncertainly at Uriel. "Won't I?"
"Of course you will have the ability to learn," Uriel replied kindly, "all souls do, but whether you actually learn is another thing altogether. What you want to know might not be ordained for that life."
"It will be. It must be. I've been wishing so very hard." He bit his lip, batting his unruly curls out of his eyes. "I know we can choose, and I've chosen to have a full, adventurous life, one where I travel and learn and know," he cried, hands flying around again, "where I'll meet loads of different people and talk to them, learn from them and about their ways and lives."
Uriel sat back, studying his most recalcitrant pupil. "That can be a very hard life to live," he said gently.
"It will be my life." He lifted his chin stubbornly. "I'll live it as best I can, to the fullest," he intoned, determination shining from every pore he owned. "How can I advance if I pull my head in and ignore everything that's going on around me." He looked at his master imploringly.
Uriel gazed at him in consternation, one eyebrow raised, and blew out an exasperated breath. Youth. If only it could be bottled and parsed out to every soul.
***
End
***
============================
Clouds, part 2
byme
***
Michael studied this batch of earthbound recruits with a stern eye, judging them severely. They were all of a type: tall, broad shouldered, slim hipped, stern of jaw and demeanor, and with an unshakable belief in right and wrong, counting themselves on the side of right every single time, But they were completely new, raw, untrained. They would be a force to be reckoned with once he was done with them. He would whip them into shape not matter how much they ached and complained -- and they would. He straightened, glancing at the clipboard his second handed him. He made a show of reading through the pages there that listed each recruit's name, skills and assignment for his earthly life. He already knew everything listed, of course, but it never hurt to remind them of that fact.
He looked up with a glare. "Attention!"
A hundred recruits snapped to, one arm bringing their shields across their chests, the other hand on their swords.
"Draw swords!"
A hundred swords hissed as they were drawn from leather sheaths.
"Assume the position!"
A hundred men took one step forward, balancing on both feet. Shields up and swords raised. A hundred helmets glittered in the sun.
Shoving the clipboard back into his second's hands, he began the training.
"Left! Lunge! Right! Lunge!" Michael slapped his quirt against his thigh at each shouted command. He stalked up and down the lines of young warriors, his sharp eyes finding faults. He used slaps and hits with his quirt to correct the way they held their swords or moved, using his hands to position limbs as he deemed necessary.
"Attention!" he shouted. The trainees immediately snapped to, automatically sheathing their swords. "Odd rows. About face!" He waited a moment. "Pair off!
"Begin!" With no little satisfaction, he observed each pair as they circled each other, their swords flashing in the sun. He listened with no little satisfaction to the bell-like tones of their weapons clashing rhythmically against each other in mock-combat. He shouted instructions and invectives indiscriminately.
"No. No. No!" he cried, running forward and halting the recruits when one of the trainee's was knocked down. "You need to lighten your grip. Your wrist and arm should be flexible, not stiff, or you'll get killed every single time."
The trainee jumped up, grabbing his sword from the mists at his feet and coming to attention, his chin up and blue eyes to the front, but his face fiery red as the other recruits laughed at his expense.
Michel glared until he had quiet and their attention, then demonstrated the proper move with his own sword, swinging it smoothly in an arc, and making the recruit repeat the motion until Michael was satisfied that he understood.
"And hang on to your sword!" he growled, shaking his head, and standing back once more.
"All right. Everyone move one place to the left. Begin again."
***
Hours later, after Michael had sent the young trainees off to refresh themselves and rest, Uriel came into his office bearing a basket lunch. Nodding politely at his friend, he opened his basket and started laying out a feast just for the two of them. They filled their plates and sat back with tankards of thick, Egyptian beer.
"How's the training coming?" Uriel asked around a bite of chicken.
"I've got a few good prospects," Michael shoveled a forkful of spicy beans and rice into his mouth, then took a swig of his beer.
"You?"
"Oh yes." Uriel smiled.
Michael gave him a shrewd look. "That wouldn't be the same cherub Nebuchadnezzar's been complaining about, would it?"
Uriel nodded.
"I think I have just the recruit to pair with him." Michael said, chewing on his own bite of chicken.
Grinning, Uriel saluted him with his tankard.
***
End
***
============================
Notes:
List of historic and religious figures and places mentioned in the story: (see Wikipedia for more information)
Nebuchadnezzar (605 BC - 562 BC): Nebuchadnezzar II, King of Babylon, King of Sumer and Akkad. He is remembered as Babylon's greatest warrior king and won many battles.
Uriel: An archangel in the Abrahamic religions. He carries fire in the palm of his hand, a book, a scroll, a flaming sword, a disc of the sun, and a celestial orb of stars and constellations. He is considered a master of knowledge and wisdom.
Lokavidu: Siddhartha Gautama, called Gautama Buddha or simply Buddha (563 BCE or 480 BCE - 483 BCE or 400 BCE): A wandering ascetic and founder of Buddhism. He was a religious leader and teacher and is considered a fully enlightened being.
Coyote: Is the Spirit of change and chaos in the Native American spiritual traditions. He is well known for his pranks and backwards advice. His advice may be benevolent or malevolent at any given time.
Jukurrpa: a term used by the Warlpiri and other peoples of the Western Desert. It is also called the Dreamtime or Dreaming by anthropologists to refer to the religious and cultural worldview in Australian aboriginal history and philosophy. The Dreamtime is the time-before-time, the revered ancient time of the ancestors.
Loki, Valhalla, The Thing, The Alföðr, Valkyrie: all refer to ancient Norse religious places, cultures, and figures. Loki is a god of chaos and change. Valhalla is the hall where many heroes slain in battle reside in the afterlife. The Thing is a meeting for religious events, trials, judgments or decisions. The Alföðr (Allfather) refers to Woden, the leader of the Norse gods. Valkyrie are variously Woden's daughters or battlemaids, charged with escorting virtuous warriors who died in battle to Valhalla or to Fólkvangr, and with terrible revenge against those not so virtuous.
Gandhi (1869 - 1948): refers to Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. He was a lawyer, anti-colonialist and political ethicist. He believed in nonviolent resistance as a way to gain independence from British rule. He became the leader of the Indian National Congress in 1921.
Sun Wu (544 BC - 496 BC): Chanquing refers to General Sun Wu's (Sun Tzu) courtesy name; the name given when he was twenty. Sun Wu was his given name and reserved for family and elders. Sun Tzu was an honorific bestowed upon him. He is credited with the authorship of 'The Art of War', a book known worldwide for its strategies concerning war and peace.
Michael: An archangel in the Abrahamic religions. His role is as a warrior. He carries a sword, banner and scales. He is seen as a protector and guardian.
Egyptian Beer: As it was made in ancient times, has been likened to liquid bread.
***
Disclaimer: Not mine, but I have hopes.
***
March, 2024
End
***