2 Hamma
Hammagen-Zeebel, angel of the God who causes all things to be, had been summoned. He[1] had been busy mending a piece of armor damaged in his last mission but the summons came from Michael, his commander and Archangel, so he had responded immediately. He made his way through the main passage of the Ninth Hall, the domain of his order.[2] He glanced at the floor, a mosaic of crystalline shapes arranged in intricate patterns. If he looked at it the crystals long enough they would move and form representations of objects found throughout the universe, showing him faraway places and things that he had never seen. The ceiling was like a view into the deep of space but alive with the paths of stars hurling through the black.
Along the way something caught his attention. He stopped and stared at the wall. The barrier was like a solid mass of crystal that housed a living fire, but as he focused on a specific point in the wall the fire slowed and the wall became clear. He looked through to the outside where a group of angels were making their way toward the hall. He counted five and felt relief that they had all returned.
He continued on his way, passing a portal that opened into a chamber filled with angels singing. Their songs were all different, thousands of different pitches, tones and tempos, yet together they created a beautiful harmony. He paused a moment and allowed the music to fill him with a warm peace. Like him these were war angels, and were using their time between missions to rejuvenate. Their singing allowed them to connect to the Father. The strength that they drew bolstered them in their battle against the enemy. He could have easily joined in and lost himself for an age, but he had been summoned.
When Hammagen-Zeebel entered Michael’s chamber he found what looked like a deciduous forest. The chamber was different each time he visited it, changing on Michael’s whim, but the Archangel seemed to prefer scenes from Earth.
“Over here, Hamma,” a voice called from what seemed like deep in the forest. The Archangel Michael rested on a grassy glade surrounded by birch trees. He wore a trim, knee-length garment made of a textured material that looked as if he had fashioned it from a huge birch leaf. It was cinched at his waist with a shimmering belt. His long golden hair fell over his shoulders in tight waves. A deep pool lay in front of him and Michael was staring into it intently but looked up as Hamma arrived, “Peace be with you.”
“And with you,” Hamma replied dutifully.
“Our Father is pleased with your last mission,” Michael informed him. “You have done well to subdue the Fallen.”
“It is joyful to carry out His will,” Hamma answered honestly.
Michael passed a hand over the pool and looked up. “Our Father has a new mission for you, on the Earth.”
Hamma was surprised. I have rarely visited Earth, why would He send me there?
“You will take a message to a mortal that our Father has chosen,” Michael continued. “But the city he dwells in is full of Semjaza’s[3] minions. They must all be cleared first.”
They should all be wiped away, Hamma thought.
“That day will come,” Michael said, “but not until the time our Father has appointed.” He held a hand up and watched a sparrow land on it, then stroked its head while the bird tweeted cheerfully. “Tell this mortal that he is highly favored by the Father and has been chosen. He will travel to a new land that was promised to his father, but now has been appointed to him.”
“Who is the mortal?”
“He is called Abram, son of Terah.”
Hamma nodded. “When do I begin?”
“Now. Is your gear in good order?”
“I have some repair left to do but it can wait.”
“This will aid you.” Michael reached behind a nearby blackberry bush and produced a shield. It was a simple round shield, smooth and made of a dull grey material. When Hamma slipped his arm into the straps and grasped the handle it seemed to come alive with a pale light that throbbed softly.
“Thank you,” Hamma said, genuinely thrilled. His own shield had taken such a beating over the last few missions that he wasn’t certain he could repair it himself.
“Take care,” Michael added. “These Fallen may be commanded by a former Power.”
Hamma saluted Michael then turned and wove his way back through the trees, rocks and shrubs that filled the chamber. He returned to his cell to collect his gear. War angels were bustling in and out of the hive where they dwelt. He glanced around for the war angels he had seen earlier but they were nowhere near. He considered searching for them but his mission was urgent so Hamma dressed quickly and slung the new shield across his back.
He went to the Armory where Samael managed the forging of weapons and armor and assisted the other war angels with their repairs. It was a squat and asymmetrical structure like an uncut gem thrust up from the ground, but the interior was like being inside a lightning bolt. Energy raced around its surface in a chaotic cycle waiting to be released into the weapons and armor being created. Samael arched his brow at the sight of Hamma’s new shield. “A rare gift.” The Smith had a broad chest to match his deep voice, but his hands were long and elegant and he moved with precise ease as he examined the shield.
Hamma returned his look with a near smile. “I am being sent to Earth.”
The Smith handed his shield back. “A great honor.”
“Yes but it is only a messenger mission. Not much of a challenge except for a few minions to clear.”
“Only the best of us are sent to serve the Father’s mortal children. And even lowly minions were once angels. Perhaps there is more to this task.”
“I pray there is.”
“Do you need help in selecting your gear?”
“A little. I have never been on to Earth in the natural, I do not know how best to appear.”
Samael studied him for a moment. “Take your full armor but cover it with a cloak, something worn and unremarkable. Keep the hood up and the cloak pulled tight. And mind the shield, it can serve as a weapon as well.”
Hamma made his way out of the Armory
and back to his cell to collect the rest of his gear. Then he left the Ninth
Hall and crossed the sparring fields to an adjacent structure. Unlike the Ninth
Hall, it was a single massive space filled with an infinite number of arches, like
a dense forest. The arches seemed to be placed without order or reason. They
were all of different sizes, shapes, styles and colors. One might be gold,
another black, another shimmering with many colors. Some were plain and smooth
while others were intricately patterned or decorated. This forest of arches
didn’t have a name so most of the angels referred to it as theHouse of the Million, though the actual
number was beyond count.
Each
arch was a portal from the war angels’ realm to some place in the universe or
to one of the other eight realms of the heavens. Hamma moved through the forest,
going around but never through any arch lest he end up in some far corner of
the universe. Some arches he recognized from past journeys, though none led to
the same place every time. He saw other war angels returning from and departing
on missions as they suddenly appeared or disappeared inside an arch. He passed
one great arch that was taller than any other and made of two towering redwood
trees twisted together at the top. Hamma almost wanted to step through just to
find where it led, but he continued on his way. When he neared the correct arch
it lit up in his mind and he stepped through.
[1] Scholars differ on the gender of angels, some believe them to be genderless. I refer to them as male simply to follow prevailing tradition.
[2] The concept of the nine orders of angels comes from Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite.
[3] In the Book of Enoch, Semjaza was the angel who convinced a large number of angels to follow him to earth where they corrupted humans, in defiance of God’s orders. Semjaza may be another name for Satan.