The First Book Keeper

The Forgathering - Chapter 1

At a pub somewhere in the United Kingdom.

"There are plenty of uncertainties in this word. But I'm not talking about uncertainties aren't I? I'm talking about certainties. Day, Night, Lightness, Darkness, Life, Death, Angels, Demons, Satan, God. Yes.. All real, and.. and inevitable I must say. What says you, if I told you I am an angel, Give me 3 more shots of whiskey bobby boy" the old man lifting his three crooked and old fingers. Bob, the bartender looked at the old patron and shook his head. "You've had enough pops, talking about these supernatural things again". "You may be wondering why an all-powerful angel is here in the pub with you, hoarding drinks? It's because I'm a mediator" To whom are you mediating to?" "Shhhh... quiet. My job is of none of your concern, you're just a sack of meat that will perish". "Alright, relax pops, or you'll get a heart attack". "Nah, Nah, My job is to look for descendants, and aid them to make amends for their blood lineage's mistakes. I'm a professional, listen carefully," said the drunken old man.

"Gadreel, Chief of the angels of the Book of life had one simple job. This cool angel had it all and was tasked to scribble down all the good people that would enter God's heaven. But, what did he do? He let Lucifer, or Satan as you know him to mess with his brittle mind". "Isn't Gadeel one of the Watchers?" "Who cares? the only thing that matters is that he failed. He's one of the fallen ones. I'll give it to Luci, being the most favourite and expected highers form of an angel, and would still manage to fuck it up! Excuse my language, this frail body is pretty hard to control, and all the vices that go with it. Ah yes, Where did we stop? Gadreel was tempted by Luci using a beautiful woman. The poor angel had no chance to decline such beauty. And with Luci's persisting role Gadreel was doomed. Fast forward, God found out, banished Gadreel from his role, along with the other hundreds of thousands of other angels that Luci duped. So, here I am, assigned by God to give these messed up eagles one more chance for redemption. Every once a billion years we mediators will be sent here on Earth to fix this tangled mixed up, these fallen ones created". "Cool story pops, What name do you go by then? Your angel name?". "Call me Mr Barnes" The bell rang signals the last call for drinks. "Mr Barnes, last call. It's 5 am. Go home you old bugger" teased the bartender impressed with the endurance of the old man. "Just keep 'em coming, you big baby!" said the old man. "I am part of a very elite group of angels, chosen by God himself, to redeem his lost angels". Mr Barnes paused and released an old man wheezing cough. The people next to him at the bar gave a disgusted look, their body moving away from their location. "What? You never heard an old man's cough before?". Mr Barnes pulled out a piece of a long paper, receipts that were taped together to form a long scroll. It had names on them. "The first day of the job commenced today, a billion years have passed. I need to go through the names, Let's start on top of the list then. Mr Barnes took out his eyeglasses, rubbed his handkerchief on the lenses and put it on smugly in his old face. Uno Juez. A troubled youth. Grew up with his grandparents in Girona. Both parents are criminals. Typical. Both are in jail. Isn't that a wonderful surprise! School, not the habitat for this type of creature, not the average kid. Of Course, he isn't. He's a descendent of the fallen angels. A hustler. He got himself into a world of trouble, landing him to juvenile prison. Mr Barnes takes out pieces of crumpled paper from his pockets and opens them up. Pieces of drawings of cartoon characters, but well-drawn and real lifelike. The kid has talent. Yeah, his talent will cost him his stupidity and ignorance. Closing time! The old man walks out of the pub, streets damp and wet. "Ugly weather, always" he scoffs. "Where are you headed to pops?" asked one of the men in the pub, the drinking buddy. "Las Ramblas" he answered drunk. "Alright, you took care, pops," said the man laughing at the old drunk. When he looked back to where Mr. Barnes was standing. The old man disappeared into thin air.

Las Ramblas, Barcelona. 6am

Shops and diners were opening. A group of people, locals and tourists alike were drawn to the ambience of this beautiful spot. Mr Barnes was sitting comfortably on the park's metal bench, waiting for Uno Juez and his gang of pickpockets to perform their daily routine. Victimizing tourists around the world, stealing any valuables they can get hold on to. Mr Barnes took another piece of paper out from his pocket, it read.