When I opened my eyes, my head hurt. Truly it felt like someone had taken a spoon to my brain and mixed it all around. Moaning loudly I sat up, everything blurry.

I got the strangest sensation that something was wrong. Really wrong. Quite wrong. Fundamentally wrong.

Worse, I got the most pronounced wave of deja vu I had ever experienced. It was so strong, in fact, it made me dizzy and I nearly fell over onto my bed.

"Woah."

I took a moment to collect myself, get my bearings. The upset feeling, as though everything had been turned on its head, persisted. I shut my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to get a grip on myself.

I was having trouble concentrating. I felt, for some reason, like I wasn't supposed to be there. At least, not in my room. I hadn't the faintest clue where I should be though. I thought, hard. The more I thought about it the more confused I became, and every thought I had became more foggy.

Then, like a clarion, it struck me.

"The naming ceremony!"

Panicking, I lurched to my feet. It was still night out, torches still dimly illuminating my abode. Relief washed over me; I hadn't overslept.

Relief quickly turned to horror. My mouth literally dropped open. On shaking legs I got to my feet, gawking at the molding around the ceiling.

MAPSAMA TIA. MAPSAMA TIA. MAPSAMA TIA. MAPSAMA TIA.

I spun around and around, looking at the words in utter horror. They appeared to be written in blood; they appeared to be written in my blood, for I recognized the repeating Enochian as my own handwriting. I looked down at my palm, half expecting it to be cut.

It was not.

I looked back at the words, feeling numb.

The words said,

TELL HIM.

Over, and over, and over, all over the ceiling and along its border. I stood for what seemed like forever, gawking, my open palm still held out. All at once I decided I wasn't going to fully understand—that I didn't think I wanted to understand—and I waved my hand, making the repeating words vanish.

~

"Have you picked a name?"

"Yes, Mikha'el, for the thousandth time I have my name picked out."

Mikha'el brushed some invisible dust from my shoulder that probably didn't even exist in the first place with a sniff. "I just want to make sure you look good before God."

"Are you worried about me, or you?"

I had meant it as a joke. Mikha'el, however, had immediately flushed and looked away. I took both his hands and smiled.

"Mikha'el—I said that in jest."

Mapsama tia.

The words echoed in my head. I found it odd it had popped into my brain right then and there. With an overwhelming feeling of dread, awash with strong deja vu, I paused. Then, before the conversation could continue, I blurted,

"Seraphin. I plan to pick Seraphin."

A heartbeat.

"Sera for short."

Another heartbeat. I held up my index finger slowly.

"With an 'n'?" I squeaked in fright.

Mikha'el grabbed me by the collar and shoved me backwards. I think he meant to shove me up against a wall, forgetting we were in a tent. As such, we both tripped and fell, I on my back, he on top of me. The entire tent came down with us.

Definitely not our most graceful moment.

"Mikha'el!" I screamed, struggling against the confusion of wings, limbs, poles, and fabric. "Get off me!"

He too was struggling, which really did not make anything easier. Or better.

"Are you mad?" he screamed. The gathering was already underway, the singing started. I heard the closest group of angels hiccup in their singing, caught off guard by our argument.

"It's fine!" I snapped, flapping my two wings as I became further entangled.

"Not it isn't!" he shrieked.

"Mikha'el, it's fine! It's really fine!"

I finally was able to pop my head out. Moments later, Mikha'el's own appeared, covered in feathers. I'm sure I didn't look much better.

"But God—"

"God doesn't care! He has no problem with my declaration!"

I had snapped it with such steady conviction we both paused. I think it also helped in some angelic level we both knew it was true. How I knew—knew with the very fabric of my being—that I wasn't to be smote upon declaring myself as close to seraphim as I could, I...didn't know. Honestly it startled me, and a horrible disquiet made me buck with a strong shiver.

Before either of us could continue, however, trumpets blared. That was supposed to be our signal to emerge from the tent. As such, we began to frantically struggle. When we did not come, there was a second, tentative trumpet. We had extracted ourselves by then and quickly rushed to God's side.

The rest of the ceremony unfolded as it had the first time. Only I didn't know that then. How do I know now that time was manipulated?

Well...

Indrajala wasn't lying.

There would be an instance I would give anything, anything to change the outcome of.

But that wouldn't happen for years to come.

~

For months after the naming ceremony, things trickled on as was expected. I fulfilled my duties, ensuring that Heaven was running smoothly. I was put in a guard, my patrol being from dusk to dawn. It was, largely, boring. However, it did give me my first insight into just how renowned I had truly become.

As we made our patrol, two at a time, with six groups making up the night rounds, we never talked. I originally assumed that's just how it was. But then we would pass other two-by-two units, and they would be chatting. So then I just assumed the seraphim I was joined with was just shy.

After a few weeks, the pairs switched. I had rounds with a different seraphim. The watch dragged on in stony silence. Once again I thought little of it. Yes, I was rather bored, but being bored on a security detail was a good thing.

It was after a handful of more weeks did I understand what was going on. For the first time, I was paired with a female angel. We walked our route without saying anything. As we approached the court houses, a stone came lose unexpectedly. I grabbed her arm immediately, steadying her. Her reaction confounded me—she squeaked.

Literally.

"Are you alright?"

She had utterly froze, staring up at me with two, huge eyes. She looked utterly petrified. I was deeply confused. I couldn't help but tilt my head in confusion.

"What?"

"Nothing," she stammered over the 'n' repeatedly. She then gave a strangled, forced laugh, and stuttered some more. "Absolutely nothing! Everything is great! Wonderful even! Superb!"

I paused and narrowed my eyes. "I am confused. What is happening?"

She laughed again, this time more natural but utterly nervously. It chirped a bit, and I recognized she was on the cusp of being so hysterical she would switch over the the dolphin-bird noise. I let go of her arm immediately. Then, softening my expression and speaking quietly, I said,

"No really, what is wrong? You can tell me."

She slowly sank down onto the steps, and I did likewise. She glanced at me, and I noticed she had her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were white. I frowned.

"I am so sorry I stumbled and you had to steady me."

I was utterly baffled. "Oh. Um. It was nothing?"

She glanced at me again. Her straight, dark brown hair was cut short in a severe bob around her chin, and she tucked some of it behind her ear nervously. It was then I noticed her eyes were a strange purple-blue, deep and beautiful. Her round, pale face was freckled. She was cute, and I felt a strange, almost paternal pull to her. Idly I wondered if, as a mortal, I had a sister.

She turned bright red and glanced at me, seemingly unable to look at me in the face. "Are you sure? I didn't mean to delay the rounds, make you angry."

I laughed. Her eyes grew even wider and she did look at me now.

"Angry? Why would I be angry?"

Then all at once like a levy door being opened, all the words came tumbling out. "I've heard stories about how your tears are the rain and when you scream the surface and the heavens themselves shake. I heard that where your blood drips trees sprout. I heard—"

I screwed up my face. "Wait, what?"

She blinked.

I waved my hand. "I mean yes, I've heard of the quaking and the rain, though I'm truthfully not sure of the validity of those claims, but my blood?" I laughed outright, which earned me a look that said she thought I was crazy. "No no, that certainly is not true. Nothing sprouts from my blood."

I saw her swallow. It struck me how serious she was. Shocked, I proceeded as gently as possible, needing to show her I was nothing that would bring her harm. I looked at her sympathetically. The poor thing was terrified.

"Where did you hear all that?"

"It's common knowledge, really."

I laughed. When she looked freaked out once more, I coughed into my hand. "Common knowledge, hm?" I mused.

Her shoulders slumped and I finally noticed her begin to relax. "So...that's not true?"

"As I said, the earth quakes and rain might be true. But I've been cut many times and I can assure you that nothing has ever grown from it." I leaned in and gave a conspiratorial wink.

"Oh..."

"Look, uh" I said, trailing off, prompting her to offer up her name.

"Kalit," she filled me in quickly.

I smiled kindly. "Kalit. I am unsure what you all have heard about me, but I'm guessing it's all largely exaggerated."

Her eyes widened once more. "So you didn't single handedly kill the Noonday Demon?"

I glanced off to the side. "Erm, no—I mean, I did actually do that—"

She squeaked again, this time crossing her arms above her head in a protective stance. "I'm sorry, please don't smite me!"

Now I laughed, truly laughed. "Smite you? Why in the Heavens would I smite you?"

She looked at me in wonder and put her arms down. She blinked her large, doe-like eyes. "You're...laughing?"

"Of course!" I said, stifling my laughter. "It's preposterous! I wouldn't smite an angel! Or at least not an angel that didn't have it coming... And you, Kalit, are undeserving of such a thing."

She still looked rather unsure, biting her lower lip. I scooted closer, and I felt her six wings tighten. I tentatively placed my hand over her clapped hands, and smiled at her warmly.

"Am I really so scary?"

She paused. "N-no...I suppose not."

"How about this?" I patted her hands and then got back to my feet "The rest of the night you and I can speak, get to know one another. Then you can tell all your friends I'm not some scary monster everyone should fear, alright?"

"I never—I never said you were a monster!" she squeaked, looking petrified once more.

I put a hand on her shoulder and tutted. "Point is, Kalit, you have nothing to fear. Nor should anyone else."

She was quiet, seeming to chew over her thoughts. Finally she nodded and I helped her to her feet. She didn't need it, especially as a full-fledged seraphim, but it was a gesture of kindness.

I'm happy to say by the end of our shift, we were both laughing and completely relaxed. When we met up with the other pairs, as always happened, everyone sort of gawked at us. Kalit looked at me, and I looked at her, and we burst into further laughter. It was the beginning of one of my few true friendships, and I look back on that night fondly.

Kalit and I don't have a reason for our duties to overlap much anymore. Which is sad. We became very close, and during my tenure as a guard I insisted she be my permanent pair. And, of course, no one balked at me having a permanent assignment.

I was, after all, quite scary, despite Kalit and I trying to convince all of Heaven otherwise.