PROLOGUE TWO
[Maybe There's a Way...]
"So, let me get this straight," Metatron stated as he paced himself back and forth in front of the Looking Glass; a heavenly device which enabled God to view Her Earth. It was like a modern day birdbath, but the water shone with so much more. In it's reflection excelled three woman, all centered around a tiny wooden table, conversing over obvious perplexing matter's. Sitting in a New York café, they rambled about day events, until the discussion heated into matter's more paranormal than appropriate. One woman, flustered and frustrated, brought up the topic of Hell. This was when God had called him in, when thing's became serious.
Alessia Stalin was her name, a rusty hinge if he had ever seen one. Matters of death boggled her mind, and her perception of where she would be sent after death was completely right. She was anything but an innocent, and although her friend's tried oh-so-desperately to comfort her, they could not view her opinions as their lifestyles differed immensely. They were clean. Innocent and perfectly swiped slates. Free of the residue of burden of master of sin. She, on the other hand, was a piece of work. A criminal defense lawyer, recently divorced of her husband of three years, and a user of an abortion clinic twice. Anything but clean, innocent, and pure in Metatron's mind, but God thought differently. No, God knew differently. And Metatron knew better than to fuss with what God knew.
"I have to go down to Earth, again, to help this woman work her way out of going to Hell on a one-way train?" Metatron stated flatly, his pacing never ceasing, "I have to help her regain her faith by re-writing all the horrible, awful and incredulous thing's she's done?"
His gaze danced to God, whom simply nodded in accordance, Her eye's understanding and filled with compassion for her servant. She felt terrible for having him run another one of Her errands, but he seemed to be the only Seraphim with the ability to connect to mortal beings. Metatron could understand the way of a human during times of trouble, as he had dealt with many an adventure before.
"I have to get her to quit her job, resolve her marital disputes, search her soul for who she is, and create a miracle?" He barked harshly, his eye's shifting to the Looking Glass momentarily, "Which one is she?"
God raised a delicate, porcelain finger towards the platinum blonde, and for a second he could have sworn he felt an odd sensation of admiration clog his throat. She was astounding, for a mortal, with eye's like the pale sky and skin like the softly fallen snow. Clearing his throat, he continued to talk, making sure he knew exactly what he was doing, "And I have a time span of one week in which to do so?"
"Or else," God mumbled, Her eye's moving into his with a stern and grave look of peril.
"Or else she is doomed to live out her eternity in Hell," Metatron nodded, "Yes, I understand that." He ran a hand over her outline, his finger tracing around the scene in the Looking Glass.
"It's not going to be easy," God whispered softly, watching him with concern, "You're going to need help, and there is a possibility of interference."
"What type of help?" He questioned, still watching the young woman with interest.
"A couple prophets, the 13th apostle, and a Muse or two...possibly." She added with a contemplative sigh, "Depending on whether or not the interference is as major as I expect."
"What type of interference?" His head shot up with poise, almost dreading the answer. Knowing the answer.
"You know what I am speaking of, Metatron. Interference of sorts," God rose from her seat at the large golden throne, and made her way over to him slowly, her bare footprint's leaving tiny marking's in the soft cloud, "Interference physically, and interference emotionally..." She quirked an eyebrow in his direction, knowing he wouldn't understand her fully just yet.
"Emotionally? You must be kidding me? She's a mortal woman, my Lord, nothing but a mere mortal woman." Metatron laughed un-easily, "I can not be bested emotionally by someone who has not out-lasted me in life or immortality."
"Perhaps you are right, perhaps you are wrong. In this universe of mine, many thing's are un-certain..." God lamented philosophically, and She watched as a shiver ran down Metatron's Holy spine.
"Even the destiny and out-come of an Angel?" He questioned with most interest, but She did not answer. Instead, She made Her way back to Her throne and took a deserving seat upon the red velvet cushion.
"You have seven days, Metatron, in seven days your time is up. You will be sent back up to the Heaven's without resistance. Do you understand?" Her voice was mono-toned now, not wanting to give him more detail on the prior topic.
Metatron nodded, taking one last glance at the Looking Glass.
"You will depart today, Monday evening, as she makes her way back to the house after adjourning to a local tavern for tequila."
Metatron smirked; at least they had one thing in common.
"At the exact time you appear in her bedroom you will have 168 hours to complete all of the tasks; which I have described to you."
He nodded, wishing She would simply wish him good luck and allowed him to leave. All this conversation was leaving things unsettled in his mind, and that, he did not appreciate.
"If you wish, you will be able to return here and converse with me on important matter's. Use your own discretion as to when and how you need me."
He tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, and She laughed sweetly.
"Always one for briefness, huh, Metatron? Remember, I made the world in 7 days. I have no use for being brief. Taking your time and stopping to smell the flower's can come in handy." She winked, and he couldn't help but break a giddy smile. She had always been one to uphold a sense of humor. Always.
"Go now, and good luck."
With one last, curt nod, he headed towards the doorframe and left the room without looking back. Even though he would never admit it to Her, a feeling inside him was ecstatic. Metatron was returning to Earth, and whether or not he wanted to acknowledge it, he had an odd feeling about this mission. Something he couldn't quite place...
Something almost mortal.
A/N: Needed to have a second prologue so you could see it from Metatron's view. Hope you enjoyed. R&R mine and I shall R&R yours! Oh, and even if you don't review. I'm gunna keep on writing. LoL.