Miykael sighed as he studied the scroll. He loved a good challenge as much as the next man, but he kept confusing two verb tenses of the language he was being forced to learn. Had he not been so insistent on showing a good example of a godly life, he might easily have thrown the scroll against the wall, but he fought to keep his temper under control.

Azarya understood. The two shared a room in the palace, for Nebuchadnezzar had taken more captives than he had room to accommodate. Just across the room were Daniyyel and Chananyah. Having no allies in this strange land and sharing a deep sense of loss for their beloved Yerushalayim, the young captives had become fast friends.

"In Yerushalayim, I would have liked to become a physician," Azarya remarked. "I would have cured men of their blindness, or better yet, prevented it."

Miykael was too polite to laugh or remind Azarya how many cases of blindness were beyond cure for even the most learned of physicians. He too had foolish dreams of his own. Ever since he had been a young boy, he had imagined that one day he would become a renowned scribe whose scrolls were found even in the king's palaces.

There was nothing like a grueling march as a captive to cause the demise of the most vivid dreams. Many of the captives began questioning their God, but in the hearts of these four young men, the flame of faith burned brightly, even though they certainly had questions of their own.

The young men had come from wealthy families. Although Azarya's father was a baker, he had once been a prosperous merchant. Now he had retired, but to occupy his time, he baked loaves to serve his community, especially the less fortunate, even though he had invested wisely and had no need for money.

Chananyah's father had been a skilled musician who earned coins for his performances for King Yehowyaqiym of Yehuwdah. When not singing, he was also talented at painting or carving designs. For his many talents in making the palace more beautiful, the king always saw the musician rewarded handsomely. Although Chananyah was too shy to perform in front of others, his friends all agreed that he had inherited his father's talent.

As for Miykael, his father had only recently come into money. The man had been a soldier who eventually saved enough coins to become a jeweler. Determined that his son should not have to struggle through life as he had, the jeweler had encouraged Miykael to become educated and learn a respectable trade of his choice.

Daniyyel never understood why his three friends discussed the occupations they would have had in Yerushalayim. After all, the custom was for the father's profession to be passed on to his sons. Chananyah would have been forced to overcome his taciturn nature to become a musician with special talent as an artist, Miykael would have become a jeweler with no time for writing scrolls, and Azarya would have taken his place among merchants rather than becoming a physician as he envisioned.

All reveries aside, it hardly mattered. They were in the Babylonia's capitol city now, and they would likely remain in this land the rest of their days. Why not make the best of it? At least they had been chosen to be educated.

"I'm not sure I want to be forced to take lessons forever," Chananyah confided to his friends. "As if being taken from our home isn't bad enough, now we have to spend three miserable years learning Babylonian culture!"

"It could be three good years," Daniyyel remarked.

"Optimism is like flattery and perfume," replied Miykael. "A little is excellent for body and spirit, but too much causes other people to wish for your demise."

Daniyyel frowned. Miykael was often a bit cynical, but at times, he could even seem a bit morbid.

They were certainly a trial to the chief official, Ashpenaz, who was responsible for looking after the young captives from Yerushalayim. Although the four friends committed no direct acts of rebellion, they refused to eat Nebuchadnezzar's food, mostly because it was deemed unsuitable by the dietary guidelines their God had given them, but also because it had been offered to idols. They refused to taint their lips with such vulgar rubbish, no matter how delectable.

"That is it!" Miykael exclaimed one day, looking in disgust at his plate. "I'm feeding this to the pigs!"

"That would get us executed," Chananyah calmly reminded him.

"Fine. I'll feed it to the lions. Lions are a symbol of Babylonian authority. It will be like I'm returning it to the source that gave it to me."

"I'm not sure," began Azarya. "I'd feel really bad for you if there was any sort of trouble, and why should we taunt those poor lions? They've done nothing to us. Besides, think how hard the servants of the kitchen have worked to prepare it. Do you really want to insult them this way?"

"How about this?" suggested Daniyyel. "I'll talk to Ashpenaz, and we'll see if we can get some better food. Then none of us will have to visit the lions."

"The real lions are those who walk on two legs, as my father always said," Miykael answered.

He had a fiery spirit that he fought to control, for having such inner strength could indeed prove beneficial at times. However, it was essential to know when the fire must rage and when it must dull into a warm, gentle glow. Much like Cyrus during his adolescent years, Miykael was still learning.

Daniyyel kept his word and spoke with Ashpenaz, who treated him kindly and mercifully. He listened while Daniyyel tactfully explained the problem and politely requested that he and his friends be excused from consuming the king's food.

"I wish I could help," Ashpenaz replied, "but the king would be furious. If King Nebuchadnezzar sees your health failing and discovers that the fault is mine because I withheld his food from you, I would be beheaded!"

Having failed to convince Ashpenaz, Daniyyel petitioned the guard who watched him and his three friends.

"We can prove we won't be made unhealthy by refusing the king's food," he stated. "You can test us. Give us vegetables and water for a fortnight, and then you can tell us for yourself if you think we're malnourished."

The guard considered it. "A fortnight is too long. I'll give you a week!"

"Sir, a week is too short to…"

"Ten days! That's my final offer!"

"Very well," Daniyyel agreed. "In ten days, you will tell us how you judge our health."

Miykael smiled to himself when he heard of Daniyyel's success. The flame of faith that united them all burned ever brighter as they stood together against the world for the sake of their God.

When ten days had passed, the guard noted that the young men looked healthier than those who ate the king's food, so from then on, all youth of Yehuwdah at the palace were given fresh vegetables and water rather than meat and wine.

In time, Daniyyel and his friends did begin eating meat occasionally, but they insisted that the animal must be a cud-chewer with cloven hooves, or a fish must have fins and scales. They could also eat locusts, some of which were large enough to require several bites, and other similar creatures, as well as certain species of birds.

Not only did the animal have to be of the right species, but they insisted on having it prepared themselves. They would take nothing that had come into contact with unclean meat or been offered to idols, nor could any young animal be boiled in its mother's milk. All these dietary restrictions might have been confusing, but they still ate more vegetables than meat, so Ashpenaz simply had his guards distribute vegetables to the youth of Yehuwdah.

Only one problem remained concerning the health of Daniyyel's friends. Miykael always looked tired, no matter how well he claimed to have slept. When Ashpenaz questioned him about it, Miykael explained that he was too cold to sleep soundly.

"Cold?!" Ashpenaz demanded incredulously. "Don't you enjoy the coolness of the palace? Isn't it much better than the heat outside?"

"It is, sir," Miykael replied courteously, "but my toes often get cold, and I have to go outside to warm them. I fear my body is unusual in that whenever I am too hot, I can always cool down easily enough by lying in the shade and sipping water, but if I become too cold, I can never warm up, even when I stand so close to an oven that I nearly touch the flame."

Ashpenaz solved the problem by finding some extra blankets. Finally, all four of the young men had proper diets and proper sleep…until Azarya began to dream.