Celestial Worlds

Chapter One

The Ceremony started at about three o'clock in the morning. As the Angel tradition, we do this every three years in memory of our perished Great Angels that fought in the famous 1642 Purgatory War. The Purgatory is a place for Celestials who commit crimes that are forbidden in their Covey. In the 8th day of March, 1642 marks the start of a deadly war in the Purgatory until the 21st of September, 1642. Our Great Angels, Ariel-Angel of Nature, Manakel-Angel of Peace, Gabriel-Angelic messenger, and many more others fought with the monsters of the Celestial bodies or popularly known as Demons. They fought because of inequality. Because of the unfairness of the Higher Committee. Because we were always respected, and they were despised, feared, and disgusted at. No one won of course, because if someone did, the Celestials will all be in chaos. We will be a wreck.

The Higher Committee tells about the importance of acceptance and the importance of respecting, because if we forget those things; there'll be a '2087 Purgatory War'. We wouldn't want that.

"Erelah!" Someone whisper-shouted. I turned my head around me, seeing different Coveys of Angels scattered in the Great Angel Hall. "Erelaaaaaah..." The voice said again. I'm still looking at my left then I turn my head to my right. Aingel is there. Her charcoal black eyes bore into mine, our faces almost touching. I jerk back in surprise. She giggles. "You should've seen your face," she says and before she crosses her arms and turns to the speaker. Aingel has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. We used to fly around Angelus Regionis which is Latin for Angel Country, or popularly known as Heaven. Us Angels are forbidden beyond the Purgatory Boundary, we are forbidden to cross Celestial Worlds. We are to be sent to the Higher Committee, to be exiled, executed, or something to take you away from our world. Crossing Celestial Worlds is the most terrible crime you could commit. No one crosses boundaries. I heard when you are sent to the Purgatory, they put some kind of spell to paralyze you, to blind you, to kill you for a minute before you are transported. Only the remaining Great Angels can transport to other Celestial Worlds. We, somehow, can transport to other Mortal Worlds because they do us no harm, only some, but not quite. When you turn of legal age-sixteen-you can transport to the most popular of the Mortal Worlds, Terra or Earth. Some of the Mortal Worlds like Mercurius, Venus, March, Luppiter, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto,or Luna contains Living Bodies but Terra has the most interesting Living Bodies. They call in Humans. But we call them Frail Ones. The legal Angels retrieved some evidences that were found on Earth like clothes, these stones with flashing screens-Cellthrones? - and some of these white sheets with dark ink slithering across. Then there's this one day, when I really, truly, became interested in Humans, when the legal Angels retrieved a large white sheet that is splattered with colours all over. They were used in great harmony, synchronizing with each other, melting into one. I have never seen colours used in such an amazing way. And they resembled the galaxy with my favourite constellation, Orion. And then, just then, did I fall in love with the idea of Humans. They called it a painting. Paintings are wonderful.

"Erelah, what are you thinking right now? You seem so absorbed in your own world," Aingel says concerned and curious at the same time. "What is a painting?" She adds. I was talking loud again, which I tend to do when I'm daydreaming.

"Oh, um, nothing. I was just...contemplating." I reasoned nonchalantly. She shrugged and the topic went away with her shoulders.

"-people of this Generation, lead this youth and take peace and pride with you, one no greater than the other. Go in peace and follow your dreams. 'The greatest message ponders upon truth'." The Higher Committee dismisses us and I go to my Covey. They always quote what Angel Gabriel said in the 1642 Purgatory War just before she disappeared. Some people also say that Angels are genderless because they only appear in spirits and they do not marry. Well, that is half true. Angels do not marry; Angels descend from the Heaven of Heavens which no Higher Committee claims place because there lays the highest Angel in all Celestial Heavens. There lays the greatest of the Great Angels, God. But, of course Angels have gender. The male Angels are quite beautiful I may say, because they are-we all are. The female Angels have the same golden hair which, from some stories say, is our melted halo. They differ in length but they are the same natural shade of blazing hot gold. We all have these marble white complexions which represent the Heavens and out pitch black eyes which represent the never ending love for our Great Angels. We don't look the same but we share these qualities with each other because we're all descendants of Heaven and she is our mother and we are all siblings. Which is why we don't marry. We all know each other and we cannot only see that we are related but we also feel it. It's like we are all linked in one wire where our blood flows. We feel this-connection.

Aingel-we're in the same Covey-snags my attention again and tells me about how she wished she witnessed the 1642 Purgatory War to meet the Great Angels and fight with them. I nod at her when she looks at me with expectant eyes. We are in Angel Gabriel's Covey. Different Coveys are labelled to different Angels. In this case, we are labelled with the Angelic Messenger, Gabriel. And we deliver messages to Higher Committees or other Coveys. Since Angel Gabriel isn't here in Angel Country, there is our second in command, Seraphina. She has dark eyebrows rather than us with golden ones and her lips are thick. She is so beautiful I can't stand to look at her. It would be weird if she catches me looking at her.

"Descendants of Gabriel, open your wings. We are going to fly." She opens hers which are big and twice as long as ours. And she soars, her back to us. She stops mid-air and continues to flap her wings as she face us. "Well," she says with a smile "Come on." The other Angels in my Covey open their wings, each wings differ in style and size but white in colour. I open mine and everyone turn to look because they hear them thud against the wind. Some gasp but others are used to it.

Because my wings are in the slightest shade of gold. The one and only.

We all soar in unison and fly to our place in Terram pacis or Land of Prosperity. We fly high in the Heavens that lie above us and I look down and see the wonderful land we live in. This is everything.