Ordinary Life

Saradomin peered out of his window, high up in the castle of Anglia. The land was a peninsula as far as he could see. The sea was calm, with the sun high in the warm summer sky. Waves beat on the shore, about 1000 feet below. Saradomin was one of the Watchers, Bene Elim. His mood was complex, happy at finally being alone, but sad, because he missed the presence of his own kind. These humans tried hard to keep him company, but their minds were not nearly as complex and as mature as his own, and their lives passed so quickly. He had been alive for 783 years, but these humans lived barely to 80. But, then again, he was happy, because the 'Castel de Anglia' was a nice place, better than one in his position could hope for. He was exiled from the land of the Angels for not submitting to Enoch when he came to power. He was sent down by the High Angel, Aragon, to the land of Anglia, which was inhabited by humans. He soon procured a noble position among them, but he missed the company of his own comrades, Brom and Balthama. He had grown a fondness for the 'wars' they had fought as children against rival groups of kids.

No. Now was not the time to dream he was back in the land of the Angels, Luma Angeli. He knew it would soon be time to head North, where the men of snow lived and Praf, the stuff of which Angels were made of, was thick. He didn't know of the ancient Angel law which allowed friends and family of an exiled to be able to appeal his/her case after 75 years from the point of his sentence. That time fell in 3 months and 21 days, on the 23rdof September.

He opened his window and launched himself outside, spreading his wings as he fell. With a few flaps of his giant wings, he rose above the castle, and out over the sea which stretched very, very far. He saw a fleet of fishing ships, and a trading ship about 6 hours journey away. He looked over the land and saw the mountains, tiny peaks in the distance.

Once he had lowered himself onto the Tower balcony, he descended to his favorite place and time. It was time to eat. Angels didn't need to eat when in their world. There was Praf, and there was no need for it. Taste was new to him. Every day, a variety of new tastes came to him. Some filled his mouth with a nice sensation, what humans called 'sweet'. Others were not as nice, what they call 'bitter'. Then there was something that made him pucker up, which they called 'sour'. There was also something they called a 'drink'. It was refreshing as the liquid poured down your throat, it cooled down your mouth and body.

He drank and ate, then a still new feeling occurred to him. It was 'sleepiness'. Angels didn't normally sleep, but now, Saradomin placed himself on his bed and slept.

Aragon reflected on what he had done almost 75 years before. Enoch, the Angel 'King' was a little too powerful. Enoch also seemed to have forgotten almost all of ancient Angelic tradition. He was dictating nearly everything, and calling many angels to battle in petty wars and skirmishes among lower races. Angels traditionally didn't have anything to do with them. He had known Saradomin. Saradomin was a wise one, and had been a good friend. It had pained Aragon to exile him. Enoch had overpowered the Angelic race. Yet, most of them had known life before Enoch. If he could only rouse those memories… If Enoch ever caught him thinking about stuff like that, he would be sentenced to death, even though it was he who normally did the sentencing. I shall ponder it later, he decided. Some trial for a doddering idiot Enoch didn't like was about to start. He was required to be at everything these days…

Some of the lower Angels are beginning to come out of blindness and are coming to see what that troublesome one saw long ago, thought Enoch. I must convince Aragon to establish subtle laws, prohibiting anyone from questioning my rule. Having Aragon appear many a time before the public does have its disadvantages. Angels will start to think that he has less power, for those in High Command rarely show their faces. If Aragon was demoted in the eye of the public, someone else would have to be promoted, and I would have to gain control of them if my rule is to be maintained. Aragon isn't the only problem. Some of the Angel High Council think that Saradomin's ideas should be supported. The 75 year appeal date was nearing. If more than half the council's power goes toward Saradomin, then he could be let back into the Angel world. Should that happen, a rebellion might be raised, and should that happen, this time the council might refuse to stop him. Aragon must be powerful in the public eye, and he must be able to make them go against Saradomin!

What Enoch didn't know was that Aragon was nearly ready to side with Saradomin and overthrow Enoch.

Aragon decided it was time to act. He had begun plotting the Secret Council, codenamed 'Shadow'. It was made up entirely of Angels on the High council that he could trust. Of course, not many went against Enoch. They were too terrified of his wrath. But, of course, those brave enough were backed by many happy memories before Enoch. The first meeting was tomorrow, at noon.

A storm was beginning to form out in the distance over the sea, but it was barely visible from Saradomin's tower, which meant that it should strike sometime in the next 12 hours. The storm front was picking up speed, and still moving toward Castel de Anglia, and this was no ordinary storm. It was a darkening in the distance at first, but then popped up about a mile away from the Castel. Everyone scurried inside for shelter. Even the birds, which normally didn't care, were retreating to their nests deep in the trees. The rain was just starting to come down. It was as if the storm had come through a veil. The Castel had stood through many a ferocious hurricane of the sea in the past century, but none had been quite like this one.