Chapter Two

Light entered the Colossus-sized dining room and aroma extravagance

filled the air. The infatuated Serael studied every detail in it. The meticulous

Metatron was studying something as well: Serael.

The dining room was golden in color with diamond-tiled flooring. The

table was not an exception. It could seat approximately twenty people, if not

more. The wood appeared to be somewhat petrified acacia. Serael was silent.

Sitting to his right was Metatron.

Metatron fiddled with his fingers. He informed his guest, saying, “The

food will arrive shortly.” The ringing in his head grew loud again. It was now as

loud as the booming thunder. “Here is your plate,” said Metatron as his hand with

his guest's plate quivered profusely. The plate was made out of some silver-

colored alloy. It was not steel, which was Serael’s initial conjecture. It was

something else…something unknown to him. It was extremely clean. It was so

clean in fact, that one could see one’s own face better than in a mirror. Serael did.

For the first time, he looked at his own reflection; he saw his own appearance.

The first feature he noticed about himself was his skin color. It was dark.

It was not what man would consider dark. It was not dark brown. It was a very

dark shade of gray. It was dark enough that if he were to walk into one of the

light-deprived corners of the dining room, he would blend in perfectly.

 His face, for the majority, had what we would consider Euro-Arabian

features. His height was a good two inches over six feet. He was also very well

built. Serael guessed he weighed about two hundred pounds. Ninety percent of it

was pure muscle. He had a six-pack. As he felt along his arms and back, he felt

scars. They weren’t scars though, they were…tattoos. They were patterns of

multiple crucifixes.

He moved the plate, and he focused back on his face. He stared into the

elusive eyes of his reflection. They were odd – different from Metatron's own.

The “whites” of his eyes were black, but his iris was colored purple. He glanced

to his right side and noticed Metatron watching. He had not spoken to Metatron,

with the exception, of course, of requesting food. Metatron was studying him. He

was incredibly fascinated at this Serael and tried to solve the riddle behind his

behavior.

The ringing in Metatron’s head grew louder. He winced as a result of the

pain it caused. Serael turned his seat to face him. He set his plate back on the table

very swiftly yet carefully. He gazed into Metatron’s eyes. Metatron began to

tremble. He knew it was time. It was time to tell Serael his purpose. The ringing

increased tremendously loud in volume.

“What am I; what are we,” asked Serael. Metatron answered, “We are

ethereal beings. We are in a para-celestial realm commonly referred to as

Heaven.” “So, we are angels,” clarified Serael, “and I am in Heaven?” Metatron

slowly rose from his seat. He stared at the ceiling for approximately two minutes
and then answered Serael’s question, “Wherever God is, it is there heaven will

also be." Serael smirked, “Impossible! God can’t be here, because I see Satan

right in front of me!” Metatron looked at him with amazement! He never heard

something so intelligently witty yet so extremely stupid entirely encompassed in

one sentence! He looked at Serael with a grin. They both laughed.

He sat back down. The ringing faded…for now. Serael looked at his plate.

The “whites” of his eyes were turquoise! He was puzzled. He could have sworn

they were black. When he concentrated on the eyes of his reflection, the color

changed again. This time they were lime green.

“They react to what emotion you are currently feeling. They color will get

lighter and darker in shade determining how strong that emotion dwells within

you,” answered Metatron, who had been watching him for some time now. He

continued, “I guess blue means happiness and green means serious or stressed.”

Serael was going to ask him another question, but the creaking of the

sizeable chamber doors of the dining room interrupted him. As it opened, the

nervous Metatron’s heart pounded at top speed. He delayed Serael from knowing

his purpose…again. He began to quiver. The maddening ringing had returned

once more to torment him. He knew he must bring to light the truth to Serael

soon, whether he liked the idea or not.