Max sat at the table, the block of wet clay pressed and smooth before him. With his tongue clamped between his teeth in concentration, he pressed the sharpened reed into the block and dragged it downward, gouging a chunk from the upper left-hand corner.

"Go gently. Better to trace over the mark two or three times and retain precision than to be sloppy and brutish."

Max pushed his hair back from his eyes. "Yeah. Wouldn't want to be brutish," he mumbled, but he tried again and managed to make five straight, clean lines in a row.

"Now you have six. Six what?" The scribe asked.

"Six days," Max said.

"And what is the symbol for a day?"

"The rayed sun."

"Good." The old man rose and stretched. His bent form cracked and popped with a sound like snapping twigs. "See how far you can get on your own. I'm going to rest my eyes."

Max gestured at the tablet. "What if I ruin it?"

The old man shrugged. "You will, of course. Beginners always do. We will dip it in water and try again tomorrow." He pointed a bent finger at the place where Max had stopped. "The rayed sun. And don't be a brute," he said before shuffling away.

Max took a deep breath and managed a lopsided semi-circle with a blob of lines at irregular intervals and smiled at his work. Not bad. Not perfect, but clearly a rayed sun.

"What is that supposed to be?" Daniel plopped down onto the bench across from him and plunked a jug of wine on the table next to the tablet.

"What do you think it is?" Max asked.

Daniel twisted his head for a better view. "A man's eye after a fight?"

"It's the sun on the horizon."

Daniel leaned in closer. "Why's it all smashed up on one side?"

Max set the reed down and wiped his hands. "You're an annoying, pesty angel with bad manners."

"You're a boring half human with no sense of humor," he returned, taking a long drink of wine.

They rose and embraced, slapping each other on the back.

"I've missed you, my friend," Max said.

"Of course you have." He pointed at the tablet. "But was it really so bad you were driven to play in the mud?"

Max rolled his eyes. "I'm learning to write. Look at this." He led Daniel to The Magnificent Wall.

Daniel walked the length of it, leaned close to examine the marks, ran a finger over the rough surface. "What's the appeal?"

"It's the story of creation, Daniel! It tells of the hand of God moving over the earth to separate water from land. Here." He pointed at a crescent. "He spoke and called two lights, the lesser to rule the night."

"Well," Daniel wrinkled his nose. "That's one way to look at it, I guess, but really it was more like--"

"Daniel!"

"What?"

"It's a story. A poem. And they wrote it down. Don't you see? If every living person forgot this and someone came across it later they would be able to bring it to life again. They made their story eternal."

"Clay is not eternal," Daniel said.

Max rolled his eyes. "Why are you here, watcher?" He gestured to the scratches on Daniel's bare chest and arms. "The battle rages on?"

Daniel grasped him by the upper arm. "Max, I was wrong."

Max's eyes widened at that. "I don't think I have ever heard those words come from your mouth."

Daniel shook his head. "Almost never happens. Almost never, but, Max..." he glanced around and leaned forward. "Max, have you ever... you know..."

Max raised an eyebrow and waited.

"You know!" Daniel insisted.

"I don't know," Max replied.

"Girls, Max." Daniel stood up straight, grinning.

"What about them?" Max asked.

"Have you ever?" The angel's eyebrows jumped up and down three times in quick succession.

Max laughed. "With a bald ape?"

Daniel threw his hands up. "Can't remember his own name from one life to the next half the time. Completely forgot about the volcano that blotted out the sun for a year, but he remembers the bald ape comment."

"I can't control what sticks," Max said, somewhat defensively. He hated the blank spots in his memory, was ashamed of them and the mortality they belied.

"Well, I was wrong. No ape ever had skin so soft and smooth."

"Wait a minute." Max gestured to the marks on his friend's chest and arms again. "A girl did that to you?"

Daniel grinned, nodding. "Yeah."

"What did you do to her?" Max asked, horrified.

"Everything she asked me to, my friend."

"I don't understand."

Daniel threw back his head and laughed, pure joy singing hallelujah to the One Who Created. "Then the answer is no, you haven't."

"Well, no! Of course not!"

"You should!" Daniel said.

Max recoiled. "I think not."

"You don't understand."

"True," Max agreed. "I don't understand how you could consider such a thing. They are mortals. You're one of the created."

"Didn't stop your father, did it?"

Max gritted his teeth against the sharp reply that came to mind. His father's action had resulted in his mother's death. His mother's death had left him alone with... with... there had been a fire and a man who danced... damn the holes in his memory! He didn't know exactly what he'd been left with, but he was certain it hadn't been pleasant.

"Oh, relax. Listen, it's not... I can't... " he leaned in close again. "Max, they make these little breathless noises."

"I've heard the noises they make. My house is behind the temple of Ishtar. I've heard the noises."

"It's different when it's up close."

Max returned to the table and eschewed the wine for a cup of cool water. "I'd rather not be all that close," Max said.

Daniel clasped his arm. "You don't know what you're missing."

Max shook his head. "I have work to do."

The angel released him. "We all have work to do. But what is the point of working to save a creation we never stop to enjoy."

"I don't need to bed a woman to enjoy creation."

"It'll take your enjoyment to a whole new level." He wiggled his eyebrows again.

"I need you to stop doing that," Max said. "And that," he pointed at the last few remaining gashes, not yet healed. "Doesn't look especially enjoyable."

The angel hung his head. "You're hopeless."

Max picked up the reed and sketched a square. Pride tickled his heart. It was a flawless square. "I am eternally hopeful. That's why I believe in preserving stories for the future generations. Future generations of humans, born of humans who mated with other humans. In the meantime, I'll keep those humans safe by doing my job and not getting distracted. My purpose is apart from theirs and I'll not shirk my duty for a moment's pleasure." He tried another semicircle. Still crooked.

"Why are we friends?" The angel asked.

"You need me to help you keep a level head," Max told him.

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These little flashbacks into Max's past lives were one of my favorite parts of this book to write. I loved exploring what made him into the reaper he ultimately became. If you're enjoying them too, a vote and/or a comment would mean the world. Thanks! :D